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"I 


CHRISTOPHER 

SIR  OLIVER  J.  LODGE 


BY  SIR  OLIVER  J.  LODGE 


Christopher 

Raymond,  or  Life  and  Death 

Modern  Problems 

The  Substance  of  Faith, 
Allied  with  Science 

Man  and  the  Universe 

The  Survival  of  Man 

Reason  and  Belief 

The  War  and  After 


CHRISTOPHER 


CHRISTOPHER 

A  STUDY  IN  HUMAN  PERSONALITY 


BY 

SIR  OLIVER  J.  LODGE 

AUTHOR  OF  "RAYMOND.  OR  LIFE  AND  DEATH."  "THE  SURVIVAL 
OF  MAN."  "THE  WAR  AND  AFTER,"  ETC. 


NEW  XSJr  YORK 
GEORGE  H.  DORAN  COMPANY 


COPYKIGHT,   1 919, 
BY  GEOKGE  B.  DOKAN  COMPANY 


PSIKTED  m  THE  tJlOTED  STATES  OF  AMESICA 


\. 


CONTENTS 

INTRODUCTION 


fAOB 

Youth  and  the  War ii 


CHAPTER  *  /xlV  X      X 

I  Home  Infujence as 

II  School  Discipline 40 

III  Military  Preparation 56 

IV  The  Compact 60 

PART  II 

MEMOIR,  AUTOBIOGRAPHICAL  FRAGMENT, 
AND  REPRESENTATIVE  LETTERS 

V    Memoir 85 

VI    Autobiographical  Fragment 104 

VII    West  Downs 116 

VIII    Winchester 131 

IX    Sandhurst 179 

X    Welsh  Guards 204 

XI    On  Active  Service .^'    .    229 

,■<»*■' 
XII    Letters  from  Brothers,  Officers,  Non-commissioned 
Officers  and  Men  of  the  Welsh  Guards,  and  from 
Friends 263 

Notes  on  a  Few  Quotations  and  Allusions      ....    297 


ILLUSTRATIONS 

Christopher •      Frontispiece 

PAGE 

Cadoxton  Lodge 86 

Christopher  as  a  Child io6 

The  Watts  Memorial 142 

Christopher  as  a  Member  of  the  Welsh  Guards    .      .      .  214 


CHRISTOPHER 


INTRODUCTION 

YOUTH   AND   THE    WAR 

"I  with  uncovered  head 

Salute  the  sacred  dead, 
Who  went,  and  who  return  not. — Say  not  so! 
'Tis  not  the  grapes  of  Canaan  that  repay, 
But  the  high  faith  that  failed  not  by  the  way; 
Virtue  treads  paths  that  end  not  in  the  grave; 
No  ban  of  endless  night  exiles  the  brave; 

And  to  the  saner  mind 
We  rather  seem  the  dead  that  stayed  behind." 

Lowell,  "Commemoration  Ode." 

In  this  great  massacre  of  youth,  in  which  we  are  all, 
to  the  best  of  our  ability,  heavily  engaged,  having  been 
driven  thereto  by  the  diabolical  wickedness  of  a  re- 
morseless foe,  what  slaughter  of  heaven-sent  genius 
must  there  inevitably  be !  Great  and  simple,  high  and 
low,  all  pass  through  the  valley  of  the  shadow,  and 
many  go  the  way  to  dusty  death. 

Of  this  great  multitude  the  majority  must  be  com- 
monplace ordinary  mortals,  with  potentialities  unde- 
veloped, and  unlikely  to  be  developed  by  the  dull 
surroundings  of  ordinary  routine. 

A  few  there  are  who,  though  young,  have  already 
shown  budding  promise  of  distinction,  and  whose  out- 
put is  not  negligible  in  quality,  however  deficient  in 

II 


12  CHRISTOPHER 

quantity:  these  are  lamented  by  the  world;  our  loss 
in  them  is  evident.  But  many  more  there  must  be 
whose  latent  capacity  was  only  partially  developed, 
who  had  had  exceptional  training,  who  might  have 
risen  to  high  position,  who  had  laid  a  sure  foundation 
for  achievement,  whose  nerves  and  muscles,  physical 
and  mental,  were  in  healthy  condition,  and  who,  by 
their  intimates,  were  expected  to  do  great  things. 

It  is  mainly  of  these  unfledged  songsters,  these  un- 
developed athletes,  these  youths  of  blighted  promise, 
that  I  write.  Our  loss  in  them,  too,  is  serious,  and 
the  truncation  of  their  own  earth-life  must  be  to  them 
something  of  a  calamity.  They  are  born,  they  go 
through  the  troubles  of  infancy,  they  labour  through 
strenuous  years  of  preparation,  love  and  care  are 
showered  upon  them;  and  then,  just  in  the  flush  of 
their  ripening  years,  the  blast  comes  which  cuts  them 
off  untimely  and  returns  them  to  that  unknown  world 
from  whence  in  some  mystic  sense  they  came.  All 
the  ripening  of  experience,  the  discipline  and  judgment 
and  forbearance  which  come  with  later  years,  they 
miss.  And  it  is  the  best,  alas !  who  go.  Broadly  this 
must  be  true. 

Seen  from  our  side,  it  looms  large  as  a  catastrophe, 
mitigated  only  by  their  heroism  and  self-sacrifice:  to 
us,  this  unnatural  selection,  this  survival  of  the  unfit- 
test,  is  deadly  and  depressing.  What  can  we  do  but 
try  to  raise  an  altar  to  their  memory,  an  altar  before 
which  many  generations  of  posterity  will  bow  in  grati- 
tude and  homage!    To  this  end  poets  and  musicians 


YOUTH  AND  THE  WAR  13 

and  architects  and  artists  of  every  kind  will  give  of 
their  best.  A  noble  monument  will  be  erected,  stone 
by  stone;  and,  buried  in  one  of  the  stones,  perhaps 
this  volume  may  find  a  place. 

But,  however  keenly  we  admire  and  rejoice  in  their 
achievements,  we  cannot  help  remembering  how  griev- 
ous and  mechanical  has  been  the  slaughter.  No  longer 
can  we  sing  of  arms  wielded  by  heroic  men:  arma- 
ments are  now  physical  and  chemical,  the  outcome  of 
prostituted  science.  Complex  machinery,  against  which 
human  flesh  is  battered  and  helpless,  flames  for  in- 
flicting torment,  poisonous  gases  in  which  no  living 
creature  can  breathe — these  diabolical  engines  are  able 
to  overcome  and  almost  to  annihilate  heroism.  The 
physiological  collapse  spoken  of  as  shell-shock  or  war 
stress  occurs  among  the  bravest.  War  has  become  im- 
possible and  inhuman. 

The  undeveloped  youth  of  humanity  plunges  into 
these  horrors,  and  cannot  hope  to  emerge  scathless. 
The  noble  army  of  heroic  youths,  many  of  them  heirs 
to  privilege  and  comfort,  willingly  enter  upon  the  toil- 
some and  dangerous  path.    Noblesse  oblige. 

Hundreds  and  thousands  of  such  youths  in  all  ranks 
of  life  yield  up  their  birthright  of  health  and  happi- 
ness, and  either  return  maimed  and  disfigured  or  do 
not  return  at  all.  Some  of  those  who  are  older  or 
higher  in  rank  may  survive,  it  may  be  their  duty  to 
take  precaution,  but  for  the  junior  officer  there  is  prac- 
tically no  hope  of  ultimate  escape.  They  stand  in  the 
breach,  they  lead  forlorn  hopes,  they  obey  the  higher 


14  CHRISTOPHER 

commands,  and  they  fall — under  the  shower  of  shell 
and  shrapnel  they  inevitably  fall — sometimes  having 
never  seen  a  foe.  Fall,  I  say;  yes,  fall  to  all  appear- 
ance, but  appearances  are  deceptive :  they 

"fall  to  rise, 
are  baffled  to  fight  better. 
Sleep  to  wake." 

Their  task  is  far  from  ended,  a  completer  existence  is 
begun:  they  enter  the  ranks  of  higher  service,  their 
power  of  help  is  increased  rather  than  diminished,  and 
they  still  devote  themselves  to  the  cause  for  which 
they  gave  their  lives. 

Let  it  not  be  supposed  that  this  noble  army  is  help- 
less and  supine ;  rather  let  us  be  sure  that  their  perform- 
ance of  duty  here  was  but  the  prelude  to  more  ex- 
tended service  hereafter,  that  the  welcome  "Well  done, 
good  and  faithful  servant,"  will  sound  in  their  ears 
in  due  time,  and  that,  as  the  outcome  of  their  faithful- 
ness in  a  few  things,  they  will  be  entrusted  with  higher 
power,  greater  opportunity  for  achievement,  a  fuller 
measure  of  self-realisation,  than  would  have  been  pos- 
sible to  them  here  and  now.  It  is  by  their  perfect 
willingness  for  service,  and,  if  need  be,  for  sacrifice, 
that  they  are  enabled,  in  some  real  sense,  to  enter  into 
the  joy  of  their  Lord. 

For  them  all  is  gain;  and  even  for  us  the  gain  will 
ultimately  outweigh  the  loss.  For  we  have  not  really 
lost  them;  they  feel  themselves  to  be  nearer  to  us  than 
before;  death  is  no  estrangement,  it  has  been  felt  by 


YOUTH  AND  THE  WAR  15 

many  as  a  kind  of  reunion.  Body  separates:  spirit 
unites.  These  are  statements  based  on  evidence, 
though  the  evidence  must  be  sought  elsewhere;  what 
is  said  here  is  the  expression  of  a  conviction  which  has 
come  to  many.  And  one  thing  more  we  know :  sacri- 
fice is  the  necessary  prelude  to  the  attainment  of  any 
high  aim. 

The  conflict  in  which  we  are  engaged  is  not  waged 
by  mechanical  force  alone,  it  is  a  knightly  enterprise 
of  eager  spirits  and  indomitable  hopes.  In  this  strug- 
gle against  principalities  and  powers  and  spiritual 
wickedness  in  high  places,  we  are  not  alone.  Our  part 
must  be  done,  but  it  is  shared  in  and  assisted  by  agen- 
cies higher  than  ourselves.  The  aim  towards  which 
all  are  striving  is  to  liberate  man  from  bondage  to 
material  necessities,  to  revive  opportunities  for  mental 
and  moral  progress,  to  promote  the  peace-ensuring  fed- 
eration of  civilised  humanity,  and  to  take  a  further  step 
toward  the  spiritual  regeneration  of  mankind. 

Why  pick  out  for  special  remembrance  one  rather 
than  another  of  the  glorious  company  of  those  who 
have  sacrificed  themselves  in  this  high  cause?  Each 
has  done  his  duty,  each  is  one  of  a  type;  but  we  can 
best  testify  where  we  have  known,  and  the  more 
closely  we  can  represent  the  type  the  more  valuable 
will  be  our  testimony.  With  one  such  type — the 
engineering  practical  type — I  have  in  another  book 
already  dealt.  I  now  essay  the  presentation  of  the 
scholarly,  the  more  artistic  type,  the  undeveloped  man 
of  letters  or  of  statesmanship,  the  youth  of  intelligent 


16  CHRISTOPHER 

and  cultivated  emotion.  Both  types  are  full  of  hu- 
manity, full  of  promise,  they  sympathise  with  and 
understand  each  other,  but  their  aptitudes  lie  in  dif- 
ferent directions,  and  we  cannot  tell  how  or  along 
what  lines  their  nascent  genius  would  have  led  them, 
had  they  continued  to  live  here. 

Each  may  stand  for  a  multitude,  and  I  trust  that 
many  parents  will  realise,  in  one  or  other  of  those  com- 
memorated, a  sufficient  picture  of  what  their  own  son 
was  like,  and  will  feel  that  in  endeavouring  to  com- 
memorate a  few  we  are  really  commemorating  a  large 
and  increasing  number. 

Now,  in  depicting  a  life  cut  of!  before  its  prime,  the 
period  of  childhood  must  loom  large.  It  is  a  period 
necessarily  without  achievement,  but  one  which  may  be 
of  singular  interest  and  prwuise.  It  is  a  period,  as  I 
think,  insufficiently  attended  to  in  many  ranks  of  life, 
a  period  which  seems  short  to  adults,  but  which  is  very 
long  to  those  who  are  passing  through  it,  a  period 
of  which  vastly  more  might  by  proper  arrangement 
be  made.  One  reason  why  the  opportunities  of  this 
time  of  rapid  growth  are  largely  wasted,  is  our  own 
adult  stupidity,  lack  of  imagination,  and  stress  of 
other  occupations.  Another  and  more  general  cause 
of  wholesale  neglect  is  the  nation's  purblind  economy, 
its  emphasis  on  wage-earning,  its  failure  to  realise  that 
the  production  of  commodities  at  the  expense  of  man- 
hood and  womanhood  is  devastating.  But  though 
multitudes  have  their  youth  spoiled  and  frustrated  by 


YOUTH  AND  THE  WAR  17 

a  grievously  sordid  or  depressing  environment,  some 
few,  in  happy  homes  and  under  wise  guidance,  are 
able  to  rise  to  the  height  of  our  common  humanity  so 
far  as  their  years  allow. 

One  undoubtedly  who  possessed  such  advantages  is 
the  subject  of  this  memoir.  And  yet  I  see  no  reason 
to  suppose  that  his  native  capacity  was  exceptional, 
unless  it  was  exceptional  in  power  of  feeling  and  sym- 
pathy. Many  a  youth  must  be  born  with  general 
ability  equal  to  or  exceeding  his,  some  of  them  lower 
in  social  grade;  and,  if  there  were  more  real  equality 
of  opportunity,  many  of  these  might  become  of  con- 
spicuous service  to  the  State.  Every  peer  seems  ex- 
pected to  be  a  statesman,  or  to  be  able  at  least  to  enter 
the  diplomatic  or  some  other  form  of  service  needing 
brains  and  character;  and  a  large  proportion  of  the 
well-bom,  whether  as  Governors  of  colonies  or  other- 
wise, show  themselves  more  or  less  fit  for  high  adminis- 
trative office.  It  can  hardly  be  because  they  are  ex- 
ceptionally gifted.  Their  success  seems  to  show  that 
the  average  of  natural  ability  is  fairly  high,  and  that 
only  nurture  and  opportunity  are  needed  to  bring  out 
some  capacity  latent  in  every  son  of  man. 

But  how  little  of  this  development  do  we  attempt  I 
It  is  lamentable  to  think  that  among  the  rank  and  file 
there  must  be  a  few  whose  potential  genius  is  lost  to 
the  world,  being  warped  and  degraded  by  the  stu- 
pidity and  ignorance  of  adults  or  by  short-sighted  cor- 
porate greed. 

It  may  be  said  that  if  youths  have  real  genius  they 


18  CHRISTOPHER 

can  rise ;  and  certainly  some  opportunities  are  now  pro- 
vided. Every  now  and  then  a  Faraday  or  a  Watt  or 
a  Stephenson  shows  what  can  be  done  in  spite  of  diffi- 
culties, or  with  the  help  of  timely  patrons,  and  exhibits 
the  latent  capacity  of  the  poor  in  birth.  Mr.  Smiles's 
volumes  are  full  of  the  hard-won  successes  of  men  of 
this  type.  But  our  social  system  demands  from  mem- 
bers of  the  proletariat  not  only  innate  genius  but  a 
character  of  extraordinary  strength,  if  they  are  ever 
to  overcome  economic  difficulties,  to  emerge  from  the 
dead  level  of  mediocrity,  secure  for  themselves  the 
necessary  leisure,  and  come  to  high  fruition.  Of  the 
wastage  we  hear  less,  but  it  must  be  appalling.  Slaugh- 
ter in  war  is  but  another  and  more  obvious  form  of 
slaughter ;  it  attracts  more  attention,  but,  save  in  quan- 
tity, it  need  hardly  be  more  repined  than  the  less 
obtrusive  moral  and  intellectual  slaughter  always  go- 
ing on  in  time  of  peace. 

The  severity  of  war  losses  is  felt  by  all  classes,  but 
is  more  conspicuous  when  the  foresight  of  parents  and 
the  inheritance  from  previous  generations  have  ren- 
dered wholesome  development  possible  and  compara- 
tively easy;  for  those  long  years  of  preparation  might 
have  been  expected  to  yield  some  worthy  result,  some 
reward  for  all  the  labour  and  sacrifice  which  had  gone 
to  the  preparing  of  the  way. 

In  some  cases  the  hallmark  of  real  genius  may  have 
been  set  upon  a  youth;  the  as-yet-undeveloped  but 
nascent  personality  may  have  already  displayed  itself 
to  expectant  eyes ;  but  the  era  of  achievement  was  not 


YOUTH  AND  THE  WAR  19 

yet;  the  bud  and  the  blossom  had  appeared,  but  not 
the  flower  or  the  fruit. 

"Childhood  is  genius  without  capacity,"  says  Fred- 
eric Myers.  Youth  may  have  access  to  subliminal 
depths,  may  experience  moments  of  intuition,  may  even 
display  trailings  of  celestial  glories,  but,  save  in  here 
and  there  a  prodigy,  it  has  had  no  adequate  opportunity 
for  incarnating  much  of  itself  in  matter,  it  has  not 
the  skill  to  overcome  the  difficulties  of  translation,  it 
cannot  bring  the  meaning  out  into  the  light  of  day. 
Hidden  but  intense  feelings,  joys  and  pains  more  vivid 
than  our  worn  souls  remember,  powers  and  insight  of 
a  depth  barely  suspected,  all  these  can  be  characteristic 
of  children,  and  of  youths  too  whose  development  has 
not  been  checked  by  untoward  circumstance,  and  whose 
ancestry  has  been  able  to  bestow  on  them  for  genera- 
tions the  blessings  of  high  culture. 

And  it  is  only  fair  if  we  comparatively  useless  sur- 
vivors, loiterers  it  may  be  on  a  stage  whence  we  must 
soon  depart,  should  seek  to  realise  and  to  represent 
something  of  what  the  cloud  of  vanishing  youth  has 
felt,  something  of  what  amid  happier  surroundings  it 
will  continue  to  feel,  something  out  of  which  may  yet 
arise  a  period  of  keener  and  wiser  and  more  beneficent 
activity  for  man. 


20  CHRISTOPHER 

SUPPLEMENT  TO  INTRODUCTION 

1.  A  Message  to  the  Bereaved 

The  following  message  has  already  been  privately  circu- 
lated by  the  Author  to  bereaved  friends,  and  it  may  suitably 
find  a  place  here: — 

The  amount  of  mourning  and  suffering  throughout  Europe 
at  the  present  time  is  something  terrible  to  contemplate.  The 
loss  to  those  who  have  gone  over  is  not  to  be  minimised:  vio- 
lent death  while  young  is  a  serious  calamity — a  man-made 
tragedy  with  dire  consequences — and  lamentation  is  natural 
and  inevitable.  But  it  must  be  remembered  that,  from  the 
point  of  view  of  the  individuals  who  have  gone  over,  there 
are  many  mitigating  circumstances.  They  have  done  their 
duty;  they  have  sacrificed  a  useful  career  here;  they  have 
given  up  all  they  possessed;  and  it  will  be  requited  to  them. 
By  such  a  death  a  burden  of  sin  is  lightened ;  some  atonement 
is  made.  Good  friends  are  waiting  for  them;  their  help  can 
be  utilised,  and  is  much  wanted,  for  their  fellows  who  are 
coming  over;  and  they  themselves  will  continue  in  the  joy  of 
service. 

They  would  like  their  friends  here  to  recognise  that,  and 
not  to  mourn  them  unduly;  above  all,  not  to  consider  them 
as  gone  out  of  existence,  as  extinguished  and  no  longer  real. 
Sorrow  at  their  departure  is  inevitable,  but  grief  which  is 
excessive  causes  them  pain. 

They  did  their  work  here,  they  will  do  it  there ;  and  in  good 
time  reunion  may  confidently  be  looked  forward  to.  If  the 
truth  of  these  matters  was  only  clearly  and  widely  realised, 
the  mourning  would  be  not  only  more  resigned  but  actually 
more  hopeful.  Death  alone  is  not  to  man  the  greatest  evil, 
and  in  some  sort  they  are  happy  in  the  opportunity  of  their 
death.  This  ought  to  be  recognised  by  those  who  survive,  and 
we  should  not  grieve  unduly  for  those  who  have  only  gone  on 
before  us. 

2.  A  Vision  of  M.  Maurice  Maeterlinck's 

"We  must  tell  ourselves  that  now,  in  each  of  our  homes, 
both  in  our  cities  and  in  the  countryside,  both  in  the  palace 


YOUTH  AND  THE  WAR  21 

and  in  the  meanest  hovel,  there  lives  and  reigns  a  young  dead 
man  in  the  glory  of  his  strength. 

"He  fills  the  poorest,  darkest  dwelling  with  a  splendour  of 
which  it  had  never  ventured  to  dream.  His  constant  presence, 
imperious  and  inevitable,  diffuses  through  it  and  maintains  a 
religion  of  ideas  which  it  had  never  known  there  before,  hal- 
lows everything  around  it,  forces  the  eyes  to  look  higher  and 
the  spirit  to  refrain  from  descending,  purifies  the  air  that  is 
breathed  and  the  speech  that  is  held  and  the  thoughts  that  are 
mustered  there,  and  little  by  little  ennobles  and  uplifts  a  whole 
people.  It  will  not  be  long  before  we  see  the  differences  in- 
crease, and  the  destinies  diverge,  between  the  nations  which 
have  acquired  all  these  dead  and  all  this  glory,  and  those 
which  are  deprived  of  them ;  and  we  shall  perceive  with  amaze- 
ment that  those  nations  which  have  lost  the  most  are  those 
which  have  kept  their  riches  and  their  men." 


PART  I 


CHAPTER  I 


HOME    INFLUENCES 


"In  our  absolute  ignorance  of  the  source  from  whence  life 
came,  we  have  no  ground  for  assuming  that  it  was  a  purely 
planetary  product,  or  that  its  unknown  potentialities  are  con- 
cerned with  purely  planetary  ends." 

"Birth,  indeed,  is  but  an  incident  in  each  organism's  his- 
tory; that  organism  has  an  embryonic  life  before  birth — and 
a  pre-embryonic  life  in  countless  lines  of  ancestry." 
F.  W.  H.  Myers,  "Human  Personality,"  chaps,  iii.  and  iv. 

Through  my  friendship  with  Frederic  Myers  I  be- 
came acquainted  in  later  years  with  the  Tennants  of 
Cadoxton.^  I  had,  indeed,  met  Charles  Coombe  Ten- 
nant  years  ago  at  Richmond  Terrace  while  F.  W.  H. 
Myers,  his  brother-in-law,  was  alive. 

The  accident  of  his  father,  Charles  Tennant,  hav- 
ing the  same  name  as  Sir  Charles  Tennant,  Bart.,  the 
founder  of  a  well-known  and  distinguished  family, 
does,  I  find,  sometimes  lead  to  confusion,  so  I  state  here 
that  the  two  families  are  entirely  distinct.  The  con- 
fusion was  rather  amusingly  perpetuated  at  a  prepara- 

'  It  may  be  well  to  explain  to  people  unacquainted  with  South  Wales 
that  the  accent  is  on  the  first  syllable  of  Cadoxton,  not  on  the  second, 
for  the  name  derives  from  its  patron  saint,   St.  Cadoc. 

25 


26  CHRISTOPHER 

tory  school,  where  two  Christopher  Tennants  were 
contemporaries,  so  that  letters  and  presents  frequently 
went  astray.  The  two  boys  were  quite  unrelated  to 
each  other;  one  of  them  was  the  son  of  Lord  Glen- 
conner,  the  other  the  subject  of  the  present  memoir. 

At  the  time  I  first  knew  Charles  Coombe  Tennant 
he  was  unmarried,  and  I  did  not  make  the  acquaint- 
ance of  his  wife  till  long  afterwards,  when  their  eldest 
son  Christopher  was  a  boy  at  Winchester,  and  after 
they  had  lost  their  infant  daughter  Daphne.  Indeed, 
it  was  in  consequence  of  this  bereavement,  felt  by  both 
parents  in  an  unusual  and  remarkable  degree,  that  ulti- 
mately I  got  to  know  the  mother  as  a  Mater  Dolorosa 
— one  who  needed  and  had  received  such  comfort  as 
belief  in  survival  could  afford.  Two  much  younger 
sons  have  since  been  born  to  them,  who  are  still  small 
children,  and  who,  since  Christopher's  death  at  the 
Front  at  the  age  of  19,  represent  the  hope  of  the 
family. 

Christopher  as  a  boy  was  notably  intelligent,  and 
after  I  had  met  him  during  one  of  his  holidays  he 
wrote  asking  arithmetical  questions  which  showed  an 
interest  in  intellectual  pursuits  unusual  in  professional 
schoolboys,  a  circumstance  that  attracted  my  attention 
and  drew  me  to  him.  His  intelligence  and  conspicu- 
ously affectionate  nature  were  very  attractive,  and  his 
relations  with  his  parents  were  ideal.  I  have  no  wish 
to  make  him  out  a  paragon  of  excellence.  I  regard  him 
and  I  treat  him  as  a  type  of  the  studious  boy,  with  a 
keen  sense  of  fun  and  humour,  and  with  other  apti- 


HOME  INFLUENCES  27 

tudes  of  value  in  themselves,  but  ill-fitted  to  cope  with 
some  of  the  coarser  and  rougher  aspects  of  youthful 
life. 

It  is  a  fairly  accepted  fact  that  the  organism  re- 
traces rapidly  the  history  of  its  ancestry,  galloping 
through  some  stages  with  surprising  swiftness.  This 
historical  repetition  is  not  embryonic  alone,  it  extends 
into  childhood,  and  the  infant  presumably  passes  more 
or  less  quickly  through  the  era  of  savagery,  sometimes 
so  quickly  as  to  be  barely  noticed,  sometimes 
prolonged  by  circumstances  or  by  ill  training  until  it 
comes  to  repulsive  fruition  in  the  comparatively  un- 
restrained license  of  the  hobbledehoy. 

A  small  residual  element  of  the  prehistoric  man  may 
conduce  harmlessly  to  love  of  sport.  It  may  in  some 
cases  even  tend  to  strengthen  a  character.  There  may 
be  room  in  humanity  for  both  the  savage  type  and 
the  studious  type;  it  is  no  part  of  my  function  to 
criticise  the  order  of  things.  But  I  apprehend  that  dur- 
ing the  rise  of  humanity  the  period  of  unrelieved  sav- 
agery has  been  more  and  more  reduced;  something  of 
its  merits  should  be  retained,  but  it  is  to  be  hoped  that 
during  future  ages  of  progress  the  studious,  the  inquir- 
ing, and  more  civilised  type  will  have  gradually  con- 
structed for  itself  an  environment  less  hostile  than  at 
present,  and  that  ultimately  it  will  combine  with  its 
own  peculiar  virtues  the  strength  of  character  insepa- 
rable from  real  elevation,  and  will  become  dominant. 
Already  it  has  attained  this  stage  in  individuals,  and 
the  idea  of  weakness  is  far  removed  from  my  concep- 


28  CHRISTOPHER 

tion  of  the  influences  under  which  Christopher  was 
reared. 

The  education  and  the  companionship  which  he  re- 
ceived from  his  Father  was  a  noteworthy  feature  of  his 
younger  life.  They  rejoiced  together  in  home  games, 
including  chess,  billiards,  and  piquet,  and  in  more 
frolicsome  exercises  in  which  the  mother  took  but  little 
interest.  It  was  with  his  Father  also  that  he  began 
Greek,  and  though  at  a  later  period  the  boy's  fresher 
learning  forged  ahead  of  the  Balliol  man's  more  rusty 
recollection,  they  went  through  a  play  of  Aristophanes 
together  with  occasional  squeals  of  laughter.  The  re- 
lationship between  Father  and  Son  continued  to  be  of 
a  most  affectionate  and  almost  fraternal  character,  and 
the  shock  of  ultimate  separation  was  severe. 

The  boy  became  an  enthusiastic  devotee  of  the 
Classics,  and  for  his  age  I  gather  from  competent  testi' 
mony  the  impression  that  his  scholarship  was  by  no 
means  despicable.  He  was  entered  upon  the  roll  of 
Trinity  College,  Cambridge,  and  would  undoubtedly 
have  done  well  in  the  Classical  Tripos,  and  keenly 
enjoyed  the  inspiration  of  his  environment. 

One  of  the  greatest  wrenches  which  he  felt  on  go- 
ing into  the  Army  was  the  uprooting  of  his  cherished 
ambition  to  go  to  Cambridge,  and  the  abandonment, 
at  least  for  a  time,  of  the  anticipated  enjoyment  of 
rooms  in  the  Great  Court  of  Trinity,  wherein,  when 
he  tried  for  his  scholarship,  he  had  oassed  a  glorious 
week. 

Concerning  Christopher's  love  of  Classics,  it  was 


HOME  INFLUENCES  29 

obviously  genuine  and  vivid — I  feel  instinctively  his 
kinship  with  Frederic  Myers,  he  was  a  boy  with  whom 
that  Scholar  would  have  had  much  sympathy — ^but 
naturally  concerning  matters  of  scholarship  it  is  not 
for  me  to  express  an  opinion.  I  have  therefore  secured 
testimony  from  a  more  than  competent  man  of  letters 
who  knew  the  boy  intimately,  and  who,  in  response  to 
the  question  whether  Christopher  would  have  ever  made 
a  Scholar,  answered  somewhat  thus: — 

"Yes,  of  the  real  type;  he  would  have  developed,  not 
on  the  side  of  philological  minutiae,  but  on  the  side  of 
feeling  for  the  Classics.  It  was  an  element  natural  to 
him.  Other  men  might  have  had  more  exact  technical 
knowledge,  but  few  could  have  had  a  more  human,  a 
more  spiritual,  apperception  and  feeling  for  classical 
literature.  It  was  in  the  stage  of  promise  rather  than 
of  achievement;  he  was  too  young  for  technical  com- 
petitions, but  the  authentic  touch  was  there." 

Of  the  Mother  it  is  difficult  and  yet  necessary  to 
speak.  As  a  woman  of  energy  and  ability  she  has  been 
absorbed  in  war  work  of  many  kinds,  she  is  an  active 
member  of  a  War  Pensions  and  other  Committees,  and 
many  there  are,  both  among  officials  and  among  right- 
ful beneficiaries,  who  can  testify  that  it  is  no  nominal 
service  which  she  renders.  She  is,  moreover,  closely 
connected  with  Welsh  Nationalist  activities,  having 
been  Chairman  of  the  Arts  and  Crafts  Section  of  the 
National  Eisteddfod  of  1918,  at  which,  in  recognition 
of  her  services,  the  Archdruid  conferred  upon  her  the 
Honorary  Eisteddfodic  Degree  of  Ovate;  and  in  the 


80  CHRISTOPHER 

Gorsedd  Circle  she  is  known  by  the  Welsh  name  of 
Mam  o  Nedd  (a  mother  of  Neath).  She  is  also  one 
of  the  twenty  original  members  (of  whom  three  were 
women)  elected  at  the  Welsh  National  Conference  in 
May,  1918,  to  form  an  Executive  Committee  for  the 
purpose  of  forwarding  the  movement  in  favour  of  Self- 
Government  for  Wales  on  Federal  lines.  In  all  ways 
she  holds  a  position  of  importance  in  South  Wales,  es- 
pecially in  the  district  of  which  Neath  is  the  centre. 
Through  these,  and  her  previous  labours  in  the 
cause  of  Woman's  Suffrage  with  Mrs.  Fawcett  and 
others,  she  must  have  become  known  to  prominent 
people,  especially  to  those  interested  in  causes  specially 
associated  with  the  enterprises  of  women,  or  those  in 
which  women  have  recently  been  able  to  take  a  lead- 
ing part;  and  locally  she  is  a  centre  of  enlightenment 
and  gracious  sympathy  to  her  friends  and  dependents. 
It  is  difficult  therefore  to  write  of  one  so  compara- 
tively well  known  and  still  active;  but  inasmuch  as 
what  follows  is  a  study  of  the  development  of  the  per- 
sonality of  a  Youth  and  inasmuch  as  to  this  develop- 
ment the  personality  of  the  mother  has  contributed 
more  than  any  other  single  cause,  I  am  bound  to  speak 
of  her  as  a  woman  of  exceptional  ability  and  strength  of 
character,  as  well  as  of  a  human  being  specially  charac- 
terised by  sympathy  and  depth  of  feeling;  for  on  all 
that  there  can  be  no  shadow  of  difference  of  opinion. 
Depth  of  feeling,  indeed,  and  passion  of  service,  are 
chief  among  her  special  characteristics,  and  these  in- 


HOME  INFLUENCES  81 

nate  attributes  have  been  cultivated  and  brought  out 
by  Motherhood  to  a  remarkable  degree. 

Devotion  to  her  children  is  exemplified  in  her  more 
than  in  most  mothers,  and  the  whole  of  her  powers 
have  been  pressed  into  the  service,  A  busy  life  has 
not  prevented  her  keen  appreciation  of  literature  and 
art  and  music;  and  in  all  such  directions,  and  in  all 
matters  of  taste  and  of  humanity,  her  influence  on  her 
children  and  immediate  surroundings  must  have  been 
profound. 

Nor  was  it  by  inculcation  only  that  the  child's  emo- 
tional life  was  fostered.  Depth  of  feeling  is  a  native 
gift,  not  an  acquired  character,  and  there  can  be  no 
doubt  about  its  inheritance.  The  perception  of  beauty 
in  the  boy  was  keen,  artistic  taste  was  highly  developed, 
and  more  than  in  most  families  were  expressions  of 
affection  and  of  enjoyment  in  life  customary;  the  home 
atmosphere  was  one  of  healthy  occupation  and  joy. 

Many  a  boy  may  feel  for  his  home  circle  a  deep 
affection,  few  are  either  able  or  willing  to  express 
their  feelings;  they  are  usually  self-contained  until 
some  strenuous  call  awakens  their  manhood,  and  out 
of  the  shyness  and  shamefacedness  of  boyhood  they  ac- 
quire the  man's  power  of  saying  what  he  feels,  un- 
deterred by  the  old  hypercritical  and  artificially  re- 
stricted atmosphere  of  school. 

I  have  emphasised  the  influence  of  the  Parents,  as 
is  only  natural  and  right.  But  among  the  home  influ- 
ences the  younger  sister  Daphne  was  a  strangely  power- 
ful one  too.     This  child,  destined  to  an  early  death. 


82  CHRISTOPHER 

must  have  had  an  exceptional  character,  full  of  unde- 
veloped possibilities,  and  the  permanent  influence  of 
her  brief  life  on  those  who  had  to  do  with  her  can 
hardly  be  over-estimated ;  it  extended  beyond  the  range 
of  relationship,  as  letters  testify.  Length  of  days  is  no 
measure  of  a  personal  influence,  there  is  something  in 
genius  which  transcends  time;  and  from  the  testimony 
of  those  who  knew  the  infant  I  judge  that  nothing  less 
than  genius  will  account  for  the  impression  she  made. 

A  memoir  of  her  was  written  by  her  Mother  a  short 
time  after  the  bereavement,  and  a  portion  of  that  will 
be  added  to  this  chapter  as  an  illustration  of  the 
strength  of  the  feelings  which  went  to  the  making 
of  the  boy.  The  complete  memoir  has  a  beauty  of  its 
own;  it  was  written  under  the  immediate  stress  of 
heavy  sorrow,  and  appears  to  me  a  human  document 
of  permanent  value.  It  is  only  in  a  spirit  of  self- 
sacrifice  that  this  and  other  private  records  are  allowed 
to  reach  beyond  the  circle  of  close  personal  friends,  but 
it  is  in  epochs  of  stress  that  the  emotional  life  is  truly 
awakened,  these  epochs  are  of  special  though  sacred 
value,  and  unless  I  am  allowed  to  exhibit  something  of 
the  depth  of  feeling  which  dominated  the  situation  I 
cannot  make  the  picture  complete. 

I  know  that  a  memoir  about  so  young  a  child  is  ex- 
ceptional. I  have  abbreviated  it  where  I  thought  that 
abbreviation  would  not  injure  it,  though  I  am  not  sure 
that  abbreviation  is  an  advantage.  I  regret  that  some 
of  its  poignant  concluding  portion  has  had  to  be 
omitted,  but  I  make  no  apology  for  reproducing  the 


HOME  INFLUENCES  33 

rest  of  it  here,  for  my  object  is  to  represent  truly  the 
personality  of  both  Mother  and  Son,  and  to  emphasise 
the  character  of  those  home  influences  which  surrounded 
the  life  of  the  boy  until  he  was  distracted  from  them 
by  the  exigencies  of  public  school  and  military  training. 


34  CHRISTOPHER 


IN   MEMORIAM 

DAPHNE   SEROCOLD  TENNANT 

Extracts  from  a  memoir  of  Daphne  written  by  her  mother  in 
August,  1908.  She  was  born  at  Cadoxton  Lodge,  Vale  of 
Neath,  on  January  6th,  1907,  and  died  in  London  on  July 
list,  1908,  aged  eighteen  months. 

What  I  write  here  is  not  for  myself.  Every  detail  is  in  my 
heart,  graved  there  in  letters  that  neither  change  nor  what  we 
call  Death  can  ever  efface. 

What  I  set  down  is  for  those  who  never  knew  The  Darling, 
or  had  seen  only  fragmentary  bits  of  her  personality.  To 
some  it  may  seem  strange  to  speak  of  personality  in  so  young 
a  child;  and  yet  first  and  foremost  she  was  a  person,  intensely 
individual,  with  strongly  marked  characteristics,  and  a  certain 
quality  of  atmosphere  which  was  essentially  her  own.  Of 
course  this  refers  to  the  later  months.  At  first  there  was  only 
the  sleeping,  sucking,  quiescent  stage,  but  later  each  day  saw 
a  growing  power  of  applying  intelligence.  In  her  dear  short 
life  she  knew  many  things:  knew  and  loved  flowers  and  their 
scent,  would  nose  among  them  with  long  inspirations  of  de- 
light; knew  also  the  elemental  joy  of  sound  and  rhythm  .  .  . 
would  beat  to  the  measure  of  a  tune  at  a  year  old.  .  .  .  Later 
I  will  try  to  show  how  every  sense  met  and  rejoiced  in  the 
sea.  She  never  knew  fear,  she  never  had  tempers  of  any  kind, 
rarely  cried,  never  was  still  a  second  when  awake,  was  always 
active  and  busy  in  her  own  dear  way.  She  was  very  feminine ; 
that -was  one  of  her  strongest  traits;  she  loved  pretty  things 
and  could  not  bear  to  part  with  any  ornament  that  had  been 
put  on  her  for  drawing-room  visits.  .  .  .  She  loved  to  be 
admired  and  spoken  of,  and  would  preen  her  head  and  bridle 
as  well  as  any  village  beauty.  If  she  caught  sight  of  herself 
in  a  glass  she  expressed  vast  admiration,  and  would  cover  her 
image  with  resounding  kisses.    Her  eyes  were  very  expressive, 


HOME  INFLUENCES  35 

and  she  used  them,  quite  unconsciously,  as  a  very  coquette, 
with  sudden  liftings,  and  quick  side  glances  wonderful  to  be- 
hold. She  had  a  merry  laugh,  and  an  immense  sense  of 
humour,  could  understand  a  joke  and  often  cap  it.  She  was 
wonderfully  intelligent,  finding  out  things  for  herself,  and, 
once  shown  a  thing,  remembering  it  unfailingly.  She  was 
sometimes  shy  with  women,  but  never  with  men,  to  whom  she 
instinctively  turned.  If  I  were  to  single  out  one  characteristic 
above  all  the  rest,  I  should  say  it  was  that  she  was  so  very 
loving.  She  was  the  embodiment  of  love,  a  dear,  soft,  fem- 
inine clinging  little  child;  and  this  love  she  would  bestow  far 
and  wide — hugging  even  the  hard  ugly  tigers  carved  on  the 
wooden  legs  of  the  dining-room  sideboard,  stroking  their  poor 
noses  with  infinite  gentleness  and  tenderness.  Her  one  atti- 
tude to  outward  objects  seemed  to  be  love,  and  her  chief 
desire  to  express  all  the  love  her  little  heart  held. 

In  appearance  she  was  remarkably  beautiful.  Her  features 
were  small  and  delicate,  the  brow  well  shaped  and  giving 
promise  of  great  intellect;  the  eyebrows  pencilled,  rather 
straight  than  arched;  the  eyes  heavy-lidded,  very  wide  apart, 
of  a  wonderful  pale  hare-bell  blue,  which  yet  at  times  looked 
dark,  the  iris  unusually  large,  the  expression  very  tender  and 
yet  alert,  the  lashes  a  dark  brown,  very  thick  and  very  long, 
making  a  dark  fringe  that  she  would  lift  and  lower  like  some 
curtain  over  the  soul-light  that  escaped  from  between  them. 
The  nose  was  small  and  well  shaped,  the  chin  rounded,  with 
a  cleft  dimple  in  the  centre;  a  firm  chin  with  character  even 
in  babyhood.  The  body  was  exquisitely  proportioned,  the 
ankles  slender,  and  the  feet  the  tiniest  things  imaginable,  pink- 
toed  and  lovely  as  a  rose  leaf.  Her  hair  was  of  a  pale  corn 
colour,  plentiful  and  curling  up  at  the  back  in  little  ringlets. 
She  wore  it  tied  on  the  left  side  with  a  bright  green  flat  bow, 
or  a  bright  green  fillet  passing  round  the  head.  It  was  as  fine 
as  spun  silk.  Her  general  appearance  was  very  old-fashioned, 
something  of  a  Du  Maurier  child  and  also  something  of  the 
Old  Masters  meeting  in  her  quaint  little  person.  It  is,  of 
course,  easy  to  say  that  love  is  blind,  but  in  setting  down  what 
I  do  I  am  giving  the  impressions  that  a  wide  range  of  people 
told  me  she  made  on  them.  She  was  very  tall,  thirty-nine  dear 
inches  when  I  measured  her  little  frame  after  she  had  been 
gathered  into  God's  arms.  .  .  . 


36  CHRISTOPHER 

Christopher  loved  the  little  sister  before  she  came,  sewing 
with  laborious  puffings  and  much  finger-pricking  her  name- 
tapes  on  her  blankets,  and  helping  to  prepare  her  white  muslin 
cot.  .  .  .  The  Darling  was  born  on  a  morning  of  brilliant 
sunshine.  It  was  a  Sunday  (January  6th,  1907).  I  can  hear 
now  the  pealing  of  the  bells  coming  through  the  half-opened 
window,  as  I  lay  resting.  .  .  .  On  February  3rd,  1907,  she 
was  christened  by  "The  Deacon"  (not  really  one  then,  but 
keeping  his  sobriquet)  at  the  font  of  Cadoxton  Church.  In 
April  we  moved  up  to  London,  and  there  The  Darling  met 
many  relations  for  the  first  time.  She  went  over  to  Richmond 
Terrace  to  my  mother-in-law — eighty-seven  years  between 
them — what  a  vista  of  history !  ^  At  the  end  of  July  we  were 
again  at  Cadoxton,  Christopher  coming  home  from  his  first 
term  at  school  and  delighting  in  the  society  of  Daphne,  who 
was  now  taking  notice  of  all  her  surroundings.  .  .  . 

Every  morning  after  breakfast  The  Darling  and  I  played 
together  in  the  drawing-room.  There  was  a  bust  of  Clytie 
that  she  loved,  and  one  of  Apollo — her  god — and  she  knew 
them  both  by  name,  would  turn  to  them  at  once  when  I  spoke 
of  them.  .  .  .  Christmas  came — the  dear  child's  only  earthly 
Christmas.  Tiny  baby  socks  were  hung  out  over  the  cot's  end, 
and  the  morning  found  them  stuffed  with  baby  toys,  the  post 
of  honour  being  given  to  Teddy  Bear,  a  soft  buff-coloured 
plush  being,  with  expressionless  features  and  alert  eyes — the 
same  poor  Teddy  who  keeps  guard  now  beside  the  little  urn. 
Christopher  had  a  soft  shawl  done  up  with  a  notice  that  it 
was  "for  Sister  with  Brusser's  love  on  her  first  Christmas," — 
and  from  God-daddy  came  a  white  bunny.  Daphne  was 
brought  down  in  nurse's  arms  to  see  the  plum  pudding  blazed, 
whereat  she  expressed  no  surprise.  .  .  . 

During  the  last  six  months  of  her  earthly  journey  she  had 
quite  grown  out  of  babyhood  and  had  become  a  little  girl.  The 
sweetness  of  the  face  in  repose,  the  curling  locks,  the  wise 
expressive  eyes,  were  all  attributes  of  early  childhood  rather 
than  of  late  babyhood.  Her  being  above  the  average  height 
strengthened  this  impression,  for  the  long  slender  limbs  had 
lost  the  first  round  plumpness  of  infancy.  It  was  a  little  girl 
who  opened  her  eyes  to  a  fairer  world  than  ours  on  the  2i3t 

^See  footnote  on  p.  98. 


HOME  INFLUENCES  87 

of  July,  1908.  No  one  could  have  thought  of  her  as  a  baby; 
the  first  blossoms  of  the  crown  of  childhood  were  already  set 
about  her  brow  before  she  was  hid  from  my  eyes,  and  it  is 
as  a  child  that  I  see  her.  .  .  . 

In  the  words  of  the  old  game.  Daphne  reminds  me  of  the 
following : 

In  flower  A  hare-bell. 

In  tree  A  willow  in  spring. 

In  sound  The  lark's  song. 

In  food  Fresh-drawn  milk. 

In  melody  Old  English  airs. 

In  colour  A  clear  bright  blue. 

In  scent  A  primrose. 

At  Easter  I  went  to  Wales  with  Christopher,  who  had  had 
whooping-cough  at  school,  leaving  Daphne  in  my  mother's 
care.  When  we  returned  she  and  Nurse  went  up  to  156, 
Sloane  Street,  so  that  Christopher  and  she  might  not  meet. 
His  quarantine  was  over,  but  we  wished  to  run  no  risks.  He 
was  only  in  London  about  three  days,  and  one  morning  called 
me  excitedly  to  say  The  Darling  was  on  the  pavement  oppo- 
site. Down  we  both  ran,  and  in  the  open  air  brother  and  sister 
gazed  at  each  other.  They  had  not  met  since  the  end  of 
January,  and  they  were  never  to  meet  again  here.  Christopher 
loved  her  very  dearly,  and  was  proud  of  her.  She  was  the 
cause  of  his  first  fight  at  school,  some  boy  having  named  her 
in  a  teasing  manner.  .  .  . 

Then  comes  the  last  earthly  chapter  of  my  dear  child's 
story. 

I  had  been  out  early  that  morning  (Thursday,  July  16th), 
and  coming  in  about  11  o'clock  I  met  her  in  the  hall.  She 
was  in  her  pram,  sitting  up.  The  day  was  gusty,  with  now 
and  then  a  slight  drizzle  of  cold  rain.  Nurse  said  she  would 
not  take  her  far.  It  was  the  last  day  my  darling  child  would 
ever  sit  in  her  pram  or  go  out  into  the  fresh  air  of  this  world — 
now  all  the  fresh  air  of  heaven  is  hers.  Later  in  the  day  she 
became  rather  peevish,  which  was  quite  unlike  her.  I  sent  for 
the  doctor,  and  by  five  o'clock  he  was  there.  A  warm  bath 
was  ordered,  and  bed  and  quiet.  There  were  no  definite  symp- 
toms.    She  had  a  restless  but  not  bad  night.  .  .  . 


88  CHRISTOPHER 

[A  portion  dealing  with  the  events  of  the  three  subsequent 
days  is  omitted.]  / 

....  I  kept  the  night-light  burn- 
ing, which  gave  a  clear  light.  It  made  shadows  on  the  ceiling ; 
I  can  see  them  now.  Not  wishing  to  make  a  chair  crack,  I 
sat  down  on  the  flooj  beside  the  cot.  From  time  to  time  I 
lifted  myself  up,  and  could  see  The  Darling  lying  quiet.  How 
I  thanked  God  for  the  sleep;  she  had  not  had  a  moment's 
natural  sleep  for  twenty-four  hours.  The  wind  must  have 
been  coming  from  the  east,  for  I  could  hear  Big  Ben  chiming 
the  quarters,  and  then  booming  3  o'clock.  The  silence  of  the 
night  was  unbroken ;  through  the  curtains  I  saw  the  first  faint 
streak  of  dawn.  Suddenly  I  noticed  a  change  in  The  Darling's 
breathing.  .  .  . 

[A  description  of  the  child's  peaceful  passing  is  omitted.] 

Day  had  broken,  the  moon  still  showed  above  the  barracks 
roof,  there  was  not  a  sound  anywhere  save  of  awakening  birds. 
In  that  peaceful  hour  I  was  alone  with  my  child's  free  spirit, 
blessing  her  and  giving  God  thanks  for  her,  and  knowing  the 
nothingness  of  what  is  called  Death — such  a  word  for  the 
birth  of  the  soul  into  perfect  freedom  and  everlasting  life !  .  .  . 

....  The  Sun  of  Life  had 
risen  upon  her  and  called  her  from  our  world  of  shadows.  .  .  . 
About  10  o'clock  Canon  Henson,^  to  whom  I  had  written, 
came  to  us.  We  spoke,  he  and  I  alone  together  first — spoke  of 
The  Darling  and  of  the  future  joy  for  us  and  the  present  joy 
for  her.  .  .  .  Afterwards  we  all  went  into  the  nursery  with 
him.  The  little  sleeping  form  showed  peaceful  in  the  diifused 
light.  He  stood  beside  the  cot,  making  the  sign  of  the  Cross, 
and  saying,  "Requiescat  in  Pace  Christianum."  Then  he  said, 
"Now  we  will  say  prayers."  He  gave  thanks — the  first  note 
was  that ;  he  gave  thanks  for  The  Darling  and  all  her  pleasant 
ways  and  the  joy  she  had  brought,  and  thanks  for  the  joy 
which  she  had  reached.  And  he  prayed  that  we  might  be 
helped  and  comforted  "in  this  dark  hour,"  and  he  commended 
The  Darling's  dear  spirit  to  the  love  that  called  her  into 

*Now  Bishop  of  Hereford. 


HOME  INFLUENCES  89 

being,  and  blessed  her — to  whom  all  blessings  had  come.  It 
was  the  only  religious  note  in  all  our  Darling's  going;  and 
just  such  as  we  would  have  wished  and  felt  appropriate.  My 
mother,  who  heard  the  Church  Service  at  Highgate,  felt  it 
almost  grotesquely  unreal,  seeing  that  nothing  of  The  Darling 
was  contained  in  the  little  casket  over  which  the  Church 
seemed  to  be  saying  words  implying  a  confusion  of  her  iden- 
tity with  the  mindless  dust — ^the  only  real  things  there  being 
poor  Teddy  Bear  and  White  Bunny ;  real  in  the  sense  of  being 
symbols  of  what  loving  hearts  have  fashioned  for  baby  fingers 
from  the  times  of  the  Egyptians,  where  tiny  toys  are  found  in 
tombs — and  will  continue  to  fashion  down  to  the  days  when 
children  of  earth  are  no  more.  .  .  . 

Of  how  I  loved  and  love  her  I  have  not  tried  to  speak ;  nor 
of  my  own  sorrow:  there  is  sorrow  too  deep  for  words,  too 
absolute  for  healing  tears.  ...  I  will  end  with  these  words, 
written  to  us  by  Canon  Henson  on  the  day  our  Darling  rose 
to  the  life  immortal:  "I  am  grateful  to  you  for  letting  me 
look  on  that  lovely  child — the  sacrament  of  how  fair  a  spirit, 
the  cradle  of  how  gracious  a  character.  Perishable  as  the 
flower  which  rests  on  it,  and  yet  having  borne  its  witness,  and 
fulfilled  its  task.  The  Life  it  brought  and  revealed  to  you 
endures  and  moves  on  to  the  full  utterance  of  itself  in  His 
Presence,  Who  is  the  Life  Everlasting ;  and  you  have  its  mem- 
ory, and  the  hope  of  its  restoration.  May  God  bless  you  in 
the  great  sorrow  of  its  absence,  as  He  has  blessed  you  in  the 
great  joy  of  its  presence  I" 


CHAPTER  II 

SCHOOL    DISCIPLINE 

"What  inconsistencies,  what  absurdities  underlie  the  assump- 
tion that  evolution  means  nothing  more  than  the  survival  of 
animals  fittest  to  conquer  enemies  and  to  overrun  the  earth. 
On  that  bare  hypothesis  the  genus  homo  is  impossible  to  ex- 
plain. No  one  really  attempts  to  explain  him  except  on  the 
tacit  supposition  that  Nature  somehow  tended  to  evolve  intelli- 
gence— somehow  needed  to  evolve  joy;  was  not  satisfied  with 
such  an  earth-overrunner  as  the  rabbit,  or  such  an  invincible 
conqueror  as  the  influenza  microbe.  But  how  much  intelli- 
gence, what  kind  of  joy  Nature  aimed  at — is  this  to  be  left 
to  be  settled  by  the  instinct  of  Vhomme  sensuel  moyen?  or 
ought  we  not  rather  to  ask  of  the  best  specimens  of  our  race 
what  it  is  that  they  live  for? — whether  they  labour  for  the 
meat  that  perisheth,  or  for  Love  and  Wisdom?  To  more  and 
more  among  mankind  the  need  of  food  is  supplied  with  as  little 
conscious  effort  as  the  need  of  air ;  yet  these  are  often  the  very 
men  through  whom  evolution  is  going  on  most  unmistakably — 
who  are  becoming  the  typical  figures  of  the  swiftly  changing 
race." 

F.  W.  H.  Myers,  "Human  Personality,"  chap.  iii. 

The  so-called  Public  Schools  of  England  are  collec- 
tively a  great,  a  really  magnificent  institution;  with 
splendid  buildings,  hallowed  associations,  and  ancient 
traditions;  full-filled  they  are  with  ancestral  emotion, 
with  all  the  accumulated  feeling  of  generations  of  the 
well-born  and  well-to-do. 

"Here,"  said  Mr.  Mackail,  speaking  of  Eton,  "one 

40 


SCHOOL  DISCIPLINE  41 

feels,  as  perhaps  nowhere  else,  the  majestic  continuity 
of  the  national  life." 

As  for  the  staffing  of  these  great  schools,  many  of 
the  headmasters  are  already  half-way  to  the  Bench  of 
Bishops  and  the  House  of  Lords;  while  the  house 
masters,  let  us  hope — it  is  always  permissible  though 
sometimes  extravagant  to  hope — are  adequately  re- 
munerated for  their  vitally  important  function,  are  as 
enthusiastic  as  any  preparatory-school  master  about 
proper  and  sufficient  semi-parental  care  of  boys,  both 
moral  and  material,  at  a  critical  and  growing  age;  are 
without  temptation  to  any  kind  of  profiteering,  and 
have  sufficient  wisdom  to  draw  the  difficult  line  between 
pampering  on  the  one  hand  and  neglect  on  the  other. 
It  must  be  admitted,  however,  that  theirs  is  a  most  dif- 
ficult and  strenuous  task,  and  that  failure  to  rise  to  the 
heights  of  opportunity  is  bound  to  be  frequent.  More- 
over, in  the  past  at  least,  the  luxury  of  home  life  has 
been  too  often  an  adverse  influence.  Yet  this  war,  like 
every  other,  has  demonstrated  how  splendid,  in  reality, 
is  the  raw  material  on  which  they  have  to  work; 
though,  hampered  apparently  by  a  curious  kind  of 
group-self  consciousness,  that  material  is  apt  to  assume 
in  self-defence  a  rather  stupidly  prosaic  and  hyper- 
critical attitude  to  things  in  general,  especially  things 
of  the  emotions,  and  to  affect  a  premature  variety  of 
cheap  cynicism  which  is  not  easily  overcome. 

To  the  fostering  care  of  these  great  institutions  are 
entrusted  the  best-born  and  the  otherwise  privileged 
youths  of  England,  and  here  they  begin  training  for 


42  CHRISTOPHER 

the  work  of  life,  preparation  for  taking  the  lead  in 
industrial  enterprises,  and  for  ruling  men  in  Dependen- 
cies throughout  the  British  Empire.  So  much  has  been 
written  in  description  and  glorification  of  Public- 
School  influence,  in  moulding  character  and  determin- 
ing destiny,  that  no  more  words  are  needed;  nor  need 
the  multitude  of  such  books  be  added  to,  even  by  a 
sentence,  in  order  to  emphasise  merits  which  can  be 
taken  for  granted.  Had  they  not  many  virtues  so 
many  youths  would  not  be  sent  there. 

But  in  the  midst  of  the  praise,  a  critical  voice  is 
heard,  and  criticism  is  growing  in  intensity.  Parents 
are  anxious ;  questions  are  asked ;  replies  are  discordant 
or  are  difficult  to  obtain.  Is  everything  really  of  the 
best,  is  it  even  as  good  as  it  might  be^  Is  the  disci- 
pline wisely  conceived  and  properly  carried  out  in  these 
originally  monastic  institutions,  or  are  boys  of  various 
ages  left  too  much  to  their  own  devices'?  Do  the  weak- 
est go  to  the  wall?  Are  there  not  excesses,  is  not  the 
boy-managed  discipline  too  suddenly  severe,  the  con- 
trast with  home  and  preparatory  school  too  complete  *? 
Are  the  bodily  exercises  or  "sports"  overdone,  giving 
rise  to  subsequent  heart-strain  and  other  troubles*?  ^ 
Is  the  feeding  wholesome  and  adequate,  or  must  it  be 
supplemented  from  home*? 

*  I  only  speak  feelingly  of  long  school  runs,  in  which  smaller  boys 
are  swished  to  over-exertion  and  fainting  by  bigger  ones  who  are 
actuated  by  sheer  ignorance  and  stupidity.  At  a  school  in  Yorkshire 
this  system  of  preposterously  long  competitive  runs  was  in  vogue, 
perhaps  still  is;  and  I  have  had  occasion,  not  in  my  own  person  but 
in  my  own  family,  to  curse  it  and  its  sequels. 


SCHOOL  DISCIPLINE  43 

Many  such  questions  are  asked,  and  I  do  not  presume 
to  answer  them :  they  have  to  be  answered  differently, 
it  may  be  supposed,  at  different  schools,  and  even  at 
different  periods  in  the  same  school. 

All  I  have  to  say,  or  to  suggest,  concerning  school 
life  is  absolutely  general;  it  has  no  reference  to  any 
one  school  in  particular.  Special  and  intimate  knowl- 
edge would  be  required  for  that.  But  there  are  certain 
general  characteristics  which  without  controversy  can 
be  admitted — characteristics  some  of  which  are  upheld 
by  high  authority  as  sound  and  wholesome  and  benefi- 
cent. Let  us  consider  one  well-worn  argument  in  their 
favour. 

The  discipline  and  hardship  of  school  are  said  to 
prepare  a  boy  for  the  discipline  and  hardship  of  later 
life.  The  note  struck  is  preparation.  So  far,  good. 
Preparation  for  life  is  eminently  desirable;  and  the 
particular  preparation  afforded  by  school  life  appears 
to  be  considered  a  kind  of  inoculation.  For  in  like 
manner  it  may  be  said  that  inoculation  prepares  one 
to  resist  the  ravages  of  specific  disease  when  that  is  en- 
countered in  the  future. 

Inoculation  is  admittedly  never  a  pleasant  process, 
though  authority  says  that  it  is  necessary.  Let  us  ac- 
cept that.  But  we  do  not  select  the  most  virulent  form 
of  microbe  for  inoculation  purposes,  we  do  not  apply 
the  disease  in  its  severest  form  to  prepare  against  milder 
attacks  in  the  future.  Yet,  according  to  the  testimony 
of  many,  the  hardship  and  discipline  of  school  during 
say  the  first  year,  and  even  during  subsequent  years 


44  CHRISTOPHER 

for  many  boys,  are  harsher  and  more  grievous  than  any- 
thing they  can  reasonably  expect  to  encounter  in  later 
life.  In  later  life  if  we  make  mistakes  we  are  pun- 
ished, it  may  be  by  a  fine,  it  may  be  by  seclusion,  but  we 
are  not  flogged,  except  for  brutal  crimes;  nor  are  we 
beaten  by  a  jury  of  our  fellows,  or  by  some  individual 
stronger  than  ourselves,  unless  we  have  injured  him  in 
a  quite  exceptional  way,  in  some  way  so  serious  that  he 
is  moved  to  take  the  law  into  his  own  hands.  We 
are  not  placed  helpless  in  the  midst  of  a  community 
whose  members  are  of  very  varying  degrees  of  size  and 
strength,  with  traditional  powers  over  body  and  some- 
times soul,  where  tale-bearing  is  forbidden,  and  where 
we  are  removed  from  the  curbing  or  protective  agency 
of  the  police.  No  one  expects  to  encounter  troubles 
of  this  kind;  and  to  inoculate  against  the  risk  of  it 
seems  carrying  precaution  rather  far. 

In  later  life  when  we  run  into  danger  we  take  other 
precautions.  If  we  go  among  savages  we  carry  weap- 
ons of  precision;  if  we  encounter  civilised  ruffians  we 
appeal  to  the  arm  of  the  law;  we  protect  ourselves 
against  bodily  ill-treatment  in  various  ways,  and  our 
souls  are  our  own. 

But  it  will  be  said  that  at  an  earlier  stage  of  life  we 
are  retracing  an  evolutionary  period,  that  we  all  have 
to  go  through  the  savage  phase,  and  that  in  this  phase 
the  rough  discipline  of  school  is  salutary  and  not  alien 
to  our  disposition.  To  some,  I  suppose,  it  does  seem 
natural  and  right;  but  to  those  whose  savage  period  is 
curtailed  or  galloped  through,  and  who  already  at  an 


SCHOOL  DISCIPLINE  45 

early  age  have  reached  a  higher  stage  of  civilisation, 
the  alien  character  of  the  mixed  elements  of  school  life 
becomes  painfully  apparent. 

But  it  is  not  alone,  it  is  not  even  mainly,  the  mere 
physical  roughness  and  irresponsibility  of  seniors  that 
I  propose  to  criticise.  These  are  painful,  but  some  peo- 
ple can  conscientiously  maintain  that  they  are  salu- 
tary, that  they  are  good  for  the  small  boy,  and  do  not 
injure  the  big  boy  or  develop  any  vein  of  cruelty  in 
his  disposition.  At  any  rate,  they  do  not  seem  to  frus- 
trate the  main  purpose  for  which  schools  exist.  This 
purpose  I  conceive  to  be  development  of  intellect  and 
of  character.  Some  call  it  "formation"  of  character, 
and  put  it  first.  If  formation  of  character  is  possible 
by  outside  influences,  then  indeed  those  influences  be- 
come supremely  important;  but  character  must  be  to  a 
great  extent  inborn.  It  may  be  unfolded,  or  it  may 
be  withered,  its  development  may  be  helped  or  hin- 
dered; but  surely  a  school  should  develop  character 
mainly  through  the  intelligence.  Awakening  of  the 
mind  would  seem  to  be  a  main  necessity  in  any  scholas- 
tic scheme.  A  system  of  training  which  depresses  the 
mind  and  yet  keeps  it  at  mental  tasks  for  several  hours 
a  day,  until  a  feeling  of  nausea  or  study-nostalgia  is 
created  which  lasts  more  or  less  through  life,  few  would 
have  the  hardihood  to  support :  they  can  only  deny  that 
any  such  state  of  things  exists ;  and  can  take  refuge  in 
maintaining  that  assertion  of  this  kind  is  an  accusation 
and  misrepresentation  made  by  some  enemy. 

Well,  such  assertions  are  made  and  must  be  faced.    I 


46  CHRISTOPHER 

wish  to  write  tentatively,  but  I  ask  those  who  know  the 
real  facts,  whatever  they  are,  to  consider  why  such 
accusations  have  ever  been  made.  So  far  as  I  am  able 
to  judge  of  the  matter,  basing  my  view  on  information 
available  to  all,  and  seeking  earnestly  to  avoid  exag- 
geration, I  feel  bound  to  say  something  on  the  sub- 
ject of  school,  as  it  not  invariably  but  too  often  is; 
and  with  this  apology  as  preface  I  begin. 

To  a  sensitive  boy  the  period  of  school  is  a  strange 
admixture  of  good  and  evil,  of  pleasure  and  pain. 
With  some  the  pain  predominates  over  the  pleasure, 
and  it  is  difficult  to  deny  the  assertion  that  with  a  few 
the  evil  predominates  over  the  good.  A  friend  of 
boarding-school  education  can  hardly  contest  the  state- 
ment that  it  is,  or  has  been,  characterised  by  some 
features  which  may  be  called  defects.    Such  are : — 

Discouragement  of  intellectual  keenness. 

Suppression  of  natural  emotional  expression. 

Reduction  of  exuberant  individuality  to  a  common 
type. 

Submission  to  a  dull  tradition  of  stupid  uniformity, 
where  every  action  has  to  be  guarded  by  defer- 
ence to  public  opinion,  on  pain  of  punishment. 

That  these  are  characteristics  of  public  schools, 
where  boys  of  different  ages  are  left  to  the  tender  mer- 
cies of  each  other,  to  the  discipline  of  prefects,  and 
subject  to  unwritten  laws  which  are  Draconian  in  their 
severity,  can  hardly  be  denied.    That  they  are  merits, 


SCHOOL  DISCIPLINE  47 

few  will  have  the  hardihood  to  assert.  And  if  they 
are  not  merits  they  are  faults,  out  of  which  it  is  to  be 
hoped  that  the  wave  of  reality  which  has  submerged 
us  in  the  great  war  will  have  sufficient  residual  power 
to  emancipate  us  before  it  has  subsided. 

Joy  in  rational  study,  eagerness  to  receive  informa- 
tion— though  perhaps  not  from  books — desire  to  under- 
stand something  of  the  nature  of  our  surroundings  and 
of  the  main  interests  of  life,  these  are  possessions  surely 
natural  to  most  children,  though  apparently  not  to  all. 
But  this  kind  of  joy  and  eagerness  is  often  killed  in 
the  growing  youth:  and  for  this  catastrophe  I  feel 
bound  to  accuse,  first  the  unwisdom,  indeed  the  igno- 
rance, of  teachers,  and  next  the  more  or  less  suffocating 
atmosphere  of  school.  Desire  for  knowledge  may  in 
exceptional  cases  return  with  but  little  abatement  dur- 
ing a  College  period  or  in  later  life,  but  during  the 
priceless  years  of  boyhood  it  must  be  hidden,  it  must 
be  indulged  secretly  if  at  all ;  an  atmosphere  of  apathy 
and  magisterial  cynicism  too  often  succeeds  in  killing 
it. 

Few  teachers  seem  to  cultivate  desire  for  knowledge 
when  it  needs  cultivation,  though  of  course  there  are 
exceptions  ^ ;  schools  may  have  many  merits — doubt- 

*  Much  has  been  said,  and  much  needs  to  be  said,  about  lack  of 
scientific  training  in  the  past,  and  about  methods  adopted  for  teaching 
science,  in  the  present.  I  feel  strongly  that  no  person  can  be  con- 
sidered educated  who  grows  up  without  some  unspecialised  informa- 
tion and  clear  outlook  on  the  universe  of  matter,  both  animate  and 
inanimate,  of  which  he  is  a  part.  I  also  consider  that  it  is  easy  to 
be  too  specific  and  technical  in  imparting  this  information  to  the  ave- 
rage unscientific  boy  with  no  special  aptitude  for  the  subject;  and 
that   a   course   of   unprofessional   or   humanistic   science   might   with 


48  CHRISTOPHER 

less  they  have — but  as  a  rule  intellectual  encourage- 
ment is  not  one  of  them.  If  that  is  in  any  degree  true 
it  would  be  difficult  to  frame  a  more  serious  indictment. 
The  lumbering  crudeness  of  the  average  professional 
schoolboy  hides,  and  in  normal  life  effectively  conceals, 
a  multitude  of  virtues.  His  professionally  guarded 
attitude,  undemonstrative,  reserved,  incapable  of  intel- 
ligent expression,  and  yet  with  sensitive  tentacles 
shrinking  at  a  touch  from  his  fellows,  is  like  the  shell 
of  a  crustacean,  a  protective  covering  which  inevitably 
hinders  free  development  and  which,  in  more  favour- 
able surroundings,  ought  not  to  be  necessary.  This 
protective  crust  can  hardly  be  the  result  of  any  reason- 
able discipline,  and  in  so  far  as  it  tends  to  cramp  the 
wholesome  exercise  of  faculties  it  is  noxious.  Nor  is  its 
cramping  influence  over  the  higher  faculties  limited  to 
the  school  period.  It  lasts  into  Sandhurst  and  other 
establishments  where  men  of  good  physique  learn  self- 
government  under  strict  but  intermittent  discipline, 
and  where  warped  high  spirits  are  responsible  for  oc- 
casional outbursts  of  rowdiness  or  even  ill-treatment. 
The  tendency  too  often  is  to  regard  a  new-comer  as 
easy  prey.  At  Winchester,  and  doubtless  in  other 
schools,  an  elder  boy  is,  I  believe,  told  off  to  help  and 
befriend  a  new-comer  for  a  time,  and  in  many  ways 
authority  tries  to  stem  the  influence  of  meaningless  tra- 
dition; but  at  some  schools  a  new  boy  seldom  experi- 

advantage  be  devised.  But  it  is  inappropriate  to  enter  upon  topics 
like  this  in  the  present  book.  I  wrote  an  article  in  the  Fortnightly 
Review  for  August,   191 8,  on  the  subject. 


SCHOOL  DISCIPLINE  49 

ences  the  smallest  chivalry  or  kindly  help  in  his  initial 
difficulties,  and  can  easily  be  rendered  miserable,  while 
in  the  worst  cases  the  thoughtless  power  of  the  stronger 
develops  into  an  obscene  brutality. 

Not  with  such  aid  would  one  expect  a  Common- 
wealth to  be  saved.  And  yet  here  are  our  defenders 
and  underneath  the  crust  they  are  fine  fellows  all  the 
time.  Hence  all  these  troubles  are  unnecessary.  They 
thwart  and  spoil  the  incubation  period.  They  dissi- 
pate energy.  Many  are  the  evils  which  come  to  frui- 
tion in  times  of  peace,  when  the  output  of  energy  is 
greater  than  the  demand  for  its  exertion.  Only  a  call 
is  needed — a  summons  to  danger  and  responsibility — 
for  true  manhood  to  assert  itself.  Expression  then 
bursts  its  hard  crust,  human  nature  is  once  more  free 
as  in  childhood,  the  hero  at  the  front  is  once  more  at 
liberty,  emancipated  from  the  painful  protective  cas- 
ing in  which  his  personality  was  masked  and  even  his 
family  affection  partially  obscured. 

Christopher  left  behind  an  unusually  complete  self- 
revelation,  for  among  his  papers  was  found  a  locked 
manuscript  book,  the  contents  of  which  had  never 
been  seen  by  anyone,  not  even  by  his  mother,  till  after 
his  death.  Here  he  collected,  for  private  edification, 
poems  and  passages  which  struck  him  as  of  permanent 
value;  and,  in  addition  to  these,  the  book  contains  as 
its  longest  feature  an  autobiographical  fragment  writ- 
ten during  the  period  of  military  training  with  the 
Welsh  Guards  at  Tadworth  Camp.  This  is  repro- 
duced in  Chapter  VI.,  and  to  my  mind  it  serves  to  show 


50  CHRISTOPHER 

how  unsuited  he  and  his  type  are  to  the  rough-and- 
tumble  of  an  average  public  school  as  now  consti- 
tuted. But  let  it  not  be  thought  that  the  fault  lay 
in  the  boy,  that  he  was  a  milksop  or  unable  to  play 
the  man.  No  such  idea  would  have  occurred  to  those 
who  knew  him ;  and  fortunately  I  am  able  to  cite  clear 
evidence  to  the  contrary,  in  the  letters  from  officers  at 
the  front  which  are  reproduced  in  a  concluding  chap- 
ter of  this  book.  In  all  the  realities  and  exigencies  of 
strenuous  life  he  made  himself  respected,  he  made 
himself  beloved:  respected  by  his  colleagues,  beloved 
by  his  men.  The  testimony  from  all  ranks  is  strong, 
spontaneous,  and  clear. 

The  autobiographical  fragment  breaks  off — ^per- 
haps fortunately — at  the  end  of  his  experience  of  the 
Preparatory  School.  What  he  felt  afterwards  in  his 
main  school  days  can  only  be  gathered  between  the 
lines  of  his  letters  home,  for  apparently  he  had  not 
the  heart  to  confess  it  even  to  his  locked  book.  Those 
who  have  been  through  it  know:  though  there  is  a 
glamour  thrown  over  early  days,  when  reviewed  in 
later  life,  which  masks  much  of  the  tedium,  the  bitter 
disappointment,  the  chilling  frost  of  misunderstanding 
and  lack  of  sympathy.  Some  indication  of  the  lower 
activities  of  officers  in  training  at  Sandhurst  are  given 
in  the  letters  of  that  period  which  follow:  correspond- 
ing indications  of  the  school  period  are  harder  to  find. 
The  natural  exhilaration  of  boyhood,  the  desire  to  save 
his  parents  anxiety,  the  traditional  feeling  of  loyalty, 
the  danger  of  any  information  reaching  the  ears  of 


SCHOOL  DISCIPLINE  51 

authority,  all  combine  to  render  a  small  boy  at  school 
helpless  and  secretive  and  inexpressive  to  a  remark- 
able degree.  But  in  Christopher's  case,  characterised 
by  an  unusually  close  bond  of  intellectual  and  moral 
sympathy  between  mother  and  son,  a  few  facts  were 
revealed,  which  though  regarded  as  private  ought  not 
to  be  concealed  if  the  representation  of  school  life  is 
not  to  be  altogether  one-sided  and  therefore  misleading. 
The  fact  to  be  faced  is  that  to  him  and  to  his  type 
school  life  is  not  really  happy.  It  is  only  made  toler- 
able by  a  blunting  of  the  nerves,  a  case-hardening  of 
the  intelligence,  a  yielding  up  of  individuality,  and  a 
drifting  with  the  crowd.  Separation  from  home  is 
one  inevitable  burden,  most  felt  perhaps  at  the  pre- 
paratory school,  where  pains  and  penalties  of  a  more 
active  character  hardly  exist.  Home-sickness  is  bad 
enough,  but  in  another  sense  the  school-sickness  of  a 
later  period  is  much  worse.  Those  who  have  been 
through  it  will  recognise  some  of  their  own  reminis- 
cences in  the  few  more  private  letters  which  I  think  it 
well  to  include  in  order  to  make  the  representation  com- 
plete. These  sadder  portions  written  by  the  boy  at 
the  age  of  seventeen  must  be  allowed  not  unduly  but 
sensibly  to  qualify  the  happier  tenour  of  the  main 
batch  of  letters  reproduced  in  the  "Winchester"  chap- 
ter. 

Loyalty  to  an  institution  of  which  they  once  formed 
part  and  in  which  they  made  some  friends,  must  be 
made  responsible  for  the  would-be  comforting  assur- 
ance of  elders  that  school  life  is  necessarily  happy. 


52  CHRISTOPHER 

Happy  in  some  respects  it  is,  as  all  exuberant  youth  is 
happy,  but  we  need  not  blind  ourselves  to  its  deficien- 
cies or  fail  to  realise  how  much  better  and  more  stimu- 
lating it  could  be  made.  The  sort  of  happiness 
achieved  by  the  less  civilised  kind  of  boy — the  average 
for  whom  up  to  the  present  the  institutions  would  seem 
to  have  been  more  particularly  devised — is  dearly 
bought. 

To  these  average  specimens  the  rest  are  more  or  less 
sacrificed.  They  represent  the  type  for  which  rules 
and  regulations  are  planned,  they  represent  the  type 
to  which  accordingly  it  is  less  troublesome  if  every 
other  kind  of  boy  is  made  to  conform. 

The  stupidity  of  the  conventional  atmosphere  of 
schools  in  general  is  illustrated  by  the  biographies  of 
many — one  might  almost  say  of  most — great  men, 
at  any  rate  of  those  who  do  not  shine  in  the  world 
of  books.  Sometimes  it  is  a  great  naturalist  who  tells 
us  that  he  "learnt  next  to  nothing  at  school;"  some- 
times it  is  a  traveller  or  engineer  or  man  of  science. 
How  often  one  reads  something  like  this:  "At  school 
his  genius  was  not  discovered,  the  masters  considered 
him  rather  stupid;"  or,  "He  must  have  developed  late, 
for  no  suspicion  of  his  future  eminence  appears  to 
have  been  entertained  by  either  his  teachers  or  school- 
fellows." I  quote  the  following  sentence  from  a  bio- 
graphy of  James  Clerk  Maxwell,  one  of  the  greatest 
mathematical  physicists  of  all  time,  who  died  at  the 
early  age  of  48 — too  little  known  even  then  by  the 
stolid  British  public  in  general,  though  a  household 


SCHOOL  DISCIPLINE  53 

word  on  the  more  educated  Continent  of  Europe,  and 
more  than  a  pioneer,  a  founder,  of  the  highest  de- 
velopments in  electro-optical  and  molecular  science : — 

"At  school,  he  did  not  at  first  take  a  very  high  place,  and 
his  schoolfellows  so  much  misunderstood  the  character  of  the 
reserved,  dreamy  boy,  that  they  gave  him  the  nickname  of 
'Dafty.' "  1 

The  very  business  of  a  school  is  to  deal  with  many 
varieties  of  young  humanity,  and  its  pride  should  be 
to  recognise  and  develop  nascent  ability  in  whatever 
direction  it  begins  to  blossom;  therefore  a  school  sys- 
tem which  has  only  one  standard  of  judgment,  and 
practically  penalises  by  neglect  or  misunderstanding 
all  who  do  not  conform  to  that  standard,  inevitably 
writes  itself  down  in  terms  akin  to  that  in  which  the 
indignant  Dogberry  longed  to  have  himself  recorded. 

The  contrast  between  a  school  or  a  Sandhurst  at- 
mosphere on  the  one  hand,  and  the  tone  of  the  letters 
received  from  Christopher  when  he  emerged  into  the 
comparative  freedom  and  adult  sanity  of  Tadworth 
Camp  and  of  the  Trenches,  is  very  marked.  And  yet 
what  a  condemnation  it  is  that  such  a  nature  could 
feel  less  out  of  place  and  homeless  even  amid  the 
hardships  and  horrors  of  war  than  he  felt  while  at 
school!  For  these  hardships  were  real,  earnest,  and 
inevitable — given  the  present  state  of  humanity  and 
the  blasphemy  of  a  super-ambitious  enslaving  nation 
which  had  to  be  curbed  by  force;  but  the  other 
troubles   were   gratuitous,    unseemly,    petty   and   un- 

*  Schuster    and    Shipley,    "Britain's    Heritage    of    Science." 


54  CHRISTOPHER 

worthy:  they  represented  the  forcible  return  of  a  civi- 
lised being  to  savagery.  And  even  that  is  unfair,  for 
savages  at  their  best  are  only  childishly  human  and 
natural,  and  with  them  we  may  have  and  may  show  a 
fellow  feeling;  but  with  the  arbitrary  conventions  and 
brutal  traditions  of  an  irresponsible  assemblage  of 
privileged  ignoramuses  there  can  and  ought  to  be  no 
alliance.  Submission  is  necessary,  for  they  have  force 
on  their  side,  but  it  is  always  ignominious ;  for  it  is  not 
genuine  human  nature  that  is  encountered,  but  various 
forms  of  what  can  only  be  stigmatised  as  vice.  I 
mean  nothing  technical  by  this  word — though  of  that, 
too,  something  might  be  said — but  I  mean  any  be- 
haviour which  runs  counter  to  what  is  natural,  any 
conduct  based  on  rules  which  are  formal,  constricted, 
empty,  and  profane,  including  every  kind  of  evil  con- 
duct which  is  not  even  justified  or  partially  excused 
by  normal  and  natural  temptation. 

Even  games  can  be  spoiled  by  compulsoriness  and 
semi-professionalism.  Playing  cricket  for  his  platoon 
at  a  later  stage  was  enjoyable,  and  was  entered  into 
with  zest ;  it  was  a  real  relaxation  and  a  friendly  game, 
accompanied  by  pleasure  and  pride  in  the  comparative 
prowess  natural  to  a  Public-School  boy.  But  drudg- 
ing at  games  amid  the  harshness  of  school  discipline, 
as  if  they  were  an  end  in  themselves  and  alone  worthy 
of  strenuous  exertion,  was  no  true  relaxation,  and 
little  better  than  another  form  of  toil. 

Unless  schools  are  already  perfect,  improvement 
must  be  possible,  and  when  improvement  is  admitted 


SCHOOL  DISCIPLINE  55 

it  becomes  only  a  question  of  degree.  There  are  some 
who  feel  that  the  scope  open  to  improvement  is  both 
wide  and  deep.  And,  in  spite  of  admiration  for  many 
excellent  qualities,  it  seems  to  me  that  to  a  larger  ex- 
tent than  is  commonly  admitted,  they  are  right. 


CHAPTER  III 


MILITARY    PREPARATION 


"We  know  not  in  what  directions — directions  how  definitely 
p re-determined — even  physical  organisms  can  vary  from  the 
common  type.  We  know  not  what  amount  of  energy  any  given 
plant  or  animal  can  absorb  and  incorporate  from  earth  and  air 
and  sun.  Still  less  can  we  predict  or  limit  the  possible  varia- 
tions of  the  soul,  the  fulness  which  it  may  receive  from  the 
World-Soul,  its  possible  heritage  of  grace  and  truth.  But  in 
genius  we  can  watch  at  each  stage  the  processes  of  this  celes- 
tial nurture.  We  can  imagine  the  outlook  of  joyous  trustful- 
ness ;  we  can  almost  seem,  with  Wordsworth,  to  remember  the 
child's  soul  entering  into  the  Kingdom  of  Heaven.  Childhood 
is  genius  without  capacity;  it  makes  for  most  of  us  our  best 
memory  of  inspiration,  and  our  truest  outlook  upon  the  real, 
which  is  the  ideal,  world." 

Myers,  "Human  Personality,"  chap.  iii. 

With  such  parentage  and  surroundings  the  boy  is 
launched  upon  the  world,  type  of  many  another  prod- 
uct of  cultivated  English  homes.  Slowly  the  boy  de- 
velops from  the  child,  and  manhood  gradually  dawns 
upon  the  boy.  What  his  career  would  have  been  in 
times  of  peace,  with  his  quiet  tastes,  his  affectionate 
disposition,  his  love  of  everything  connected  with 
Wales  and  the  Welsh  people,  his  passionate  devotion 
to  his  home,  and  the  opportunities  which,  in  the  course 
of  nature,  he  would  have  possessed  of  taking  his  right- 

56 


MILITARY  PREPARATION         57 

ful  place  as  heir  to  a  property  situated  in  an  industrial 
district  where  labour  problems  are  especially  acute, 
and  where  already  he  was  becoming  well  known  and 
popular — of  all  this  nothing  can  now  be  said. 

Every  scheme  was  shattered  by  the  outbreak  of 
War  and  by  the  attainment  of  an  age  when  military 
service  became  possible. 

Without  enthusiasm,  indeed  with  constitutional  re- 
pugnance to  the  illogical  gruesomeness  of  war,  in  full 
knowledge  of  the  degradation  which  had  fallen  upon 
so-called  civilised  warfare,  he  and  his  kind  entered 
upon  the  training  necessary  to  fit  them  for  military 
service,  and  in  his  case  to  enable  him  to  attain  the 
coveted  honour  of  becoming  an  Officer  in  the  Welsh 
Guards.  And  it  must  be  said  that  he  succeeded  bril- 
liantly. 

Considering  the  extremely  short  time  which  he  had 
at  the  actual  Front,  for  withui  a  month  from  going 
abroad  he  met  his  death,  the  spontaneous  testimony  to 
his  disposition  and  capabilities,  his  admirable  behav- 
iour under  stress,  and  his  high  powers  as  a  soldier — 
such  concurrent  testimony  both  from  officers  and  men 
is  amazing. 

Courage  and  high  bearing  are  innate  qualities  in  a 
British  gentleman,  truly,  but  it  is  good  to  know  that, 
having  undertaken  an  irksome  task,  he  threw  himself 
into  it  with  vigour  and  characteristic  thoroughness, 
and  succeeded  in  winning  golden  opinions  from  those 
well  qualified  to  judge. 

The  hardships  of  a  winter  campaign  and  of  the  long 


58  CHRISTOPHER 

fatigue  of  the  trenches  he  was  spared, — in  this  more 
fortunate  than  many  of  his  comrades.  One  after 
another  of  those  who  went  out  with  him  have  likewise 
now  succumbed,  and  the  roll  of  glory  inexorably  grows. 

Among  so  many  heroic  lads,  why  pick  out  one  for 
special  mention?  I  have  a  reason;  and  the  reason  in 
the  next  chapter  will  be  clear. 

The  belief  in  continuity  of  existence,  in  survival  of 
the  spirit  of  man  beyond  bodily  death,  was  as  keen 
and  vivid  and  as  free  from  doubt  or  hesitation  in  his 
family  as  in  any  that  I  have  known.  The  death  of 
his  sister  Daphne,  in  some  indirect  way,  had  contributed 
to  this  in  no  small  measure;  and  the  result  of  this 
strong  belief,  or,  as  it  seemed,  knowledge,  was  ex- 
traordinarily wholesome.  It  led  to  an  agreement  be- 
tween Mother  and  Son  providing  for  all  contingencies, 
it  bore  fruit  in  an  attitude  of  clear-eyed  faith  and  un- 
repining  acquiescence  in  whatever  happened,  a  thor- 
oughness of  acquiescence  in  the  inevitable,  which, 
though  it  may  not  be  unique,  is  practically  without  sim- 
ilar example  in  my  knowledge. 

It  is  in  the  earnest  hope  that  agreements  of  this 
kind,  based  on  faith  of  equal  strength,  will  become 
commoner — agreements  which  shall  mitigate  the  sever- 
ity of  the  pain  which  so  many  must  still  undergo  in 
the  near  future, — it  is  largely  in  the  hope  that  the 
discovery  here  made,  of  how  to  meet  impending  fate 
and  insure  against  the  repercussion  of  bodily  injury 
on  the  mind  and  soul,  may  be  helpful  to  others,  that 
this  book  is  written. 


MILITARY  PREPARATION         59 

In  a  previous  volume  I  dealt,  as  impersonally  as 
possible,  with  a  family  where  posthumous  comfort  was 
obtained,  and  undoubted  communication  received, 
across  the  thin  veil  of  separation;  but  many  there  are 
who,  perhaps  wisely,  decline  to  seek  or  are  unable  to 
gain  comfort  in  this  way.  "Many  are  the  thyrsus- 
bearers,  few  are  the  mystics."  For  these,  and  perhaps 
for  all,  I  am  now  permitted  to  show  another  and  per- 
haps more  excellent  way. 

Both  methods  are  sensible  and  right  and  well- 
founded;  but  temperaments  differ,  opportunities  do 
not  come  equally  to  all.  Yet  all  alike  suffer  in  this 
terrible  eruption  of  mad  violence;  all  of  every  class 
must  give  of  their  heart's  blood  to  stem  the  onset  of 
the  beast;  and  it  surely  behoves  us,  to  whom  after 
much  study  insight  has  been  given,  to  supply  such  help, 
such  encouragement,  such  strengthening  of  the  mental 
and  moral  sinews,  as  shall  enable  others  to  meet  the 
worst  in  a  spirit  of  calm  endurance, — nay  rather,  to 
meet  it  in  a  triumphant  spirit  of  steadfast  faith  and 
hope  and  love. 


CHAPTER  IV 


THE    COMPACT 

"If  the  belief  in  a  life  to  come  should  ever  regain  as  firm 
possession  of  men's  mind  as  of  old,  that  belief  will  surely  be 
held  in  a  nobler  fashion.  That  life  will  be  conceived,  not  as 
a  devotional  exercise  nor  as  a  passive  felicity,  but  as  the  pro- 
longation of  all  generous  energies,  and  the  unison  of  all  high 
desires." 

Myers,  "Modern  Essays,"  viii.,  p.  310. 

"Not,  then,  with  tears  and  lamentations  should  we  think  of 
the  blessed  dead.  Rather  we  should  rejoice  with  them  in  their 
enfranchisement,  and  know  that  they  are  still  minded  to  keep 
us  as  sharers  in  their  joy.  It  is  they,  not  we,  who  are  working 
now ;  they  are  more  ready  to  hear  than  we  to  pray ;  they  guide 
us  as  with  a  cloudy  pillar,  but  it  is  kindling  into  steadfast  fire. 

"Nay,  it  may  be  that  our  response,  our  devotion,  is  a  needful 
element  in  their  ascending  joy;  and  God  may  have  provided 
some  better  thing  for  us,  that  they  without  us  should  not  be 
made  perfect;  ut  non  sine  nobis  consummarentur" 

Myers,  "Human  Personality,"  chap.  x. 

It  is  naturally  to  be  expected  that  a  family  connected 
by  marriage  with  F.  W.  H.  Myers,  even  though  they 
had  come  but  little  into  contact  with  that  vehement 
personality,  should  have  heard  of  his  dominating  in- 
terest, and  absorbed  some  of  his  ideas  concerning  sur- 
vival and  the  nature  of  a  future  life.  Yet  not  till 
after  the  challenging,  and  to  the  Mother  devastating, 
event  of  the  death  of  Daphne  did  the  subject  force 

60 


THE  COMPACT  61 

itself  conspicuously  on  their  conscious  attention;  and 
when  it  did,  the  channels  through  which  enlighten- 
ment came  were  not  the  recognised  commonplaces  of 
religion  or  the  traditional  beliefs  of  any  sect,  but  were 
derived  from  the  inspiration  of  poets  and  men  of  let- 
ters, and  from  some  of  the  facts  on  which  Myers  him- 
self had  based  his  own  philosophic  conceptions: 
though  it  is  probable  that  the  facts  were  but  partially 
known,  and  the  conceptions  perhaps  imperfectly  ap- 
prehended. 

The  result,  however,  was  a  homely  and  practical 
and,  so  to  speak,  secular  outlook  on  the  continuity  of 
existence,  treating  after-life  not  in  an  awe-stricken 
scared  manner,  but  with  full  recognition  of  duties  to 
be  done,  affection  to  be  felt,  and  life  to  be  lived ;  treat- 
ing it,  in  fact,  very  much  as  if  the  lost  ones  were  only 
separated  by  some  not  altogether  impenetrable  veil,  or 
as  if  they  had  emigrated  to  another  land,  a  land  full  of 
interest  and  beauty,  though  out  of  reach  of  the  ordi- 
nary opportunities  for  domestic  intercourse. 

Wherever  such  belief  prevails,  it  is  only  natural 
that  every  means  of  continuing  the  imbroken  family 
feeling  should  be  employed.  Relics,  reminiscences,  an- 
niversaries, everything  which  reminded  the  family  of 
its  dead  member,  would  be  kept  in  the  forefront  of 
attention;  and  the  silent  influence,  the  still  half- 
realised  presence  of  the  loved  one,  would  be  felt  as  a 
stimulus  and  an  assistance  in  daily  life.  The  first 
shock  of  debilitating  pain  over,  a  healthy  reaction 
would  begin ;  and  the  determination  would  be  made  to 


62  CHRISTOPHER 

live  life  worthily,  and  to  serve  strenuously,  until  the 
time  came  for  corporate  re-union. 

In  this  faith  I  doubt  not  the  boy  Christopher  was 
reared.  And  it  is  noteworthy  that  the  paralysing 
shock  of  Daphne's  death,  felt  to  an  almost  overpower- 
ing extent  by  the  mother,  indirectly  led  her  to  take 
precautions  against  any  repetition  of  so  shattering  a 
blow :  so  that  nine  years  later,  when  the  boy  was  ready 
to  go  to  the  Front  and  enter  the  zone  of  danger  from 
which  escape  was  obviously  precarious,  a  solemn  com- 
pact was  entered  into  between  mother  and  son,  the 
effect  of  which  proved  to  be  strengthening  and  com- 
forting and  helpful  on  both  sides  to  an  extraordinary 
degree.  And  its  influence  endured  long  after  the  first 
excitement  had  subsided,  and  endures  in  unabated 
strength  to  this  day. 

This  compact  it  is  a  chief  part  of  my  duty  to  em- 
phasise and  to  commend  to  others;  for  I  have  been 
impressed  with  its  unique  value,  and  I  had  not  heard 
before  of  any  similar  compact  so  clearly  made  and  so 
thoroughly  carried  out. 

Compacts  made  between  relatives  expecting  to  be 
separated  by  death,  that,  if  possible,  they  would  en- 
deavour to  communicate  and  send  some  loving  greet- 
ing from  the  other  side  of  the  grave,  or  would  otherwise 
give  some  proof  of  their  continued  existence — compacts 
such  as  these  are  common.  I  say  nothing  against 
them,  they  are  natural  enough,  but  they  are  most  ap- 
propriate when  made  between  people  torn  with  the 
agony  of  doubt,  eager  to  be  convinced,  seeking  for  a 


THE  COMPACT  68 

sign.  There  is  no  sense  of  security,  no  assured  repose, 
about  a  compact  of  that  kind;  it  breathes  of  uncer- 
tainty, almost  of  hopelessness,  it  is  like  the  longing 
for  a  miracle  in  order  that  faith  may  be  strengthened; 
it  is  entirely  justifiable,  but  in  most  cases  it  is  a  sign 
of  feeble  faith,  at  least  on  one  side. 

Not  of  such  nature  was  the  compact  that  I  now 
speak  of.  It  was  the  outcome  of  clear  and  vigorous 
certainty,  based  largely  upon  testimony  no  doubt,  but 
upon  intuition  too.  The  fact  of  survival  was  admitted ; 
the  possibility  of  some  kind  of  communication  was 
assumed;  the  shock  of  separation  was  faced;  but  no 
demand  was  made,  on  either  side,  for  evidence  of  con- 
tinued existence  or  surviving  affection. 

Everything  of  that  kind  was  taken  for  granted. 
Given  that  the  departed  remained  himself,  a  sudden 
extinction  of  love  was  inconceivable.  No  sign  of  sur- 
vival was  needed;  the  certainty  of  continued  existence 
was  already  assured. 

Hence  what  was  needed  was  not  preoccupation  with 
things  or  people  left  behind,  not  groping  after  what 
had  ceased  to  be  possible — the  old  familiar  handclasp, 
the  old  loving  embrace,  the  welcoming  bodily  presence 
— not  these,  but  a  clear  perception  that  a  new  life  was 
being  entered  on,  new  surroundings  to  be  understood, 
old  friends  to  be  welcomed  in  a  new  guise,  a  multi- 
tude of  interesting  and  absorbing  things  confronting 
the  new  comer.  Among  these  he  would  be  moving  as 
a  novice,  and  it  was  hoped  that  he  might  move  secure 
and  unperturbed,  eager  and  interested,   unperplexed 


64  CHRISTOPHER 

and  unsurprised.  To  this  initial  stage  it  was  desirable 
that  he  should  give  himself  wholly,  not  restrained  or 
hampered  by  anxiety  for  the  grief,  still  less  by  the  un- 
nerving doubts,  of  those  left  behind.  Their  sorrow, 
for  the  time,  he  might  safely  ignore,  if  only  he  could 
be  sure  that  they  would  sympathise  with  and  under- 
stand his  attitude,  would  themselves  be  endeavouring 
to  take  up  the  broken  fragments  of  their  own  life,  and 
without  repining,  with  no  undue  mourning,  would  un- 
dertake or  continue  the  tasks  which  lay  before  them, 
and,  like  him,  give  to  those  tasks  their  undivided  at- 
tention. 

The  aim  was  that  each  might  feel  secure  of  the 
other, — secure  that  temporary  absorption  did  not  sig- 
nify forgetfulness,  secure  that  no  misunderstanding 
would  arise  or  distrust  be  caused  by  absence  of  any 
sense  of  communion  for  a  time. 

A  sense  of  communion  might  well  come  hereafter, 
after  an  interval  perhaps  not  long;  but  meanwhile  it 
was  determined  that  whatever  opportunities  for  com- 
munication might  in  due  time  follow,  they  need  not 
be  hurried,  that  nothing  need  interfere  with  the  happy 
and  peaceful  readjustment  of  existence  to  the  new 
and  for  a  time  strange  condition.  Such  was  the  com- 
pact, and  it  was  the  clear  outcome  of  mutual  love  and 
faith. 

Some  people  imagine  that  belief  in  survival  of  an 
assured  kind  will  lead  people  to  neglect  their  mundane 
duties  and  be  always  asking  for  messages  and  evidence; 


THE  COMPACT  65 

but  they  are  mistaken.  Excessive  demands  of  this  kind 
are  a  sign  of  weak  faith. 

For  scientific  purposes  evidence  is  necessary,  and 
may  be  legitimately  sought.  People  who  cannot  be- 
lieve, and  who  grope  after  some  hope  of  continued 
existence,  require  tests  and  evidence  too.  All  this  is 
right  and  human  enough.  In  moderation  it  is  helpful 
and  reasonable  for  all.  But  once  let  the  fact  of  sur- 
vival be  fully  and  finally  established,  on  scientific  not 
on  superstitious  grounds,  once  let  the  general  manner 
of  it  be  understood,  its  nature  and  laws  duly  recog- 
nised, and  a  far  more  peaceful  attitude  will  be  taken 
towards  death  and  towards  the  departed. 

That  memory  survives  will  be  known,  that  affection 
is  permanent  will  not  be  doubted.  These  will  be 
among  the  facts  apprehended  by  humanity  in  general, 
like  the  roundness  of  the  earth. 

And  once  this  knowledge  is  universal  and  secure, 
then,  though  occasional  communion  will  still  be  de- 
sired, as  is  only  natural,  only  those  who  felt  half  doubt- 
ful of  real  affection  here  will  anxiously  seek  for  evi- 
dence that  in  each  individual  instance  the  love  of  the 
departed  was  really  strong  enough  to  survive  the  shock 
of  death  and  to  continue  amid  the  manifold  interests 
of  another  state  of  being. 

In  order  to  show  how  different  from  this  was  the 
attitude  of  Mother  and  Son  here  commended,  I  have 
obtained  permission  to  copy  some  extracts  from  private 
letters  and  records  which  will  in  some  measure  speak 
for  themselves. 


66  CHRISTOPHER 

They  prove  how  immediately  the  compact  took  ef- 
fect. Further  testimony  can  be  adduced  that  the  effect 
was  not  an  evanescent  excitement,  to  give  way  to  sub- 
sequent depression,  but  that  it  burned  with  a  clear  and 
steady  flame,  and  so  continues  to  this  day. 

Concerning  the  Compact 

Copy  of  a  letter  written  by  Christopher's  Mother  to  his 
immediate  relations  on  September  loM,  1917, 
four  days  after  hearing  of  his  having  fallen  in 
action. 

Cadoxton^  September  \oth,  19 1?* 
8:30  a.m.  Monday. 

I  want  you  all  to  know  just  exactly  what  is  about 
what  has  happened. 

On  August  3rd,  just  one  month  before  Cruff's  *  ris- 
ing, he  was  here.  We  had  our  first  long  talk  together 
alone  since  both  had  known  of  his  going  abroad.  We 
sat — holding  each  other's  hands,  and  not  without  tears. 
We  knew  what  it  was  to  both  of  us,  and  we  wanted  to 
say  certain  things  between  us. 

After  speaking  of  the  perfect  companionship  which 
was  always  ours,  but  had  flowered  ii:ito  such  beauty  as 
the  boy  emerged  towards  manhood,  we  spoke  of  the 
future,  and  we  provided  definitely  and  fully  for  each 
of  us  what  we  should  each  do,  aim  at,  and  feel,  under 
certain  eventualities. 

These  were — that  he  should  be  wounded,  or  missing, 
or  taken  prisoner,  or  killed  in  action. 

*The  abbreviation  "Gruff"  was  used  only  in  writing. 


THE  COMPACT  67 

We  have  only  to  meet  this  last,  and  I  want  you  all 
to  know  what  we  arranged,  and  therefore  what  is. 

We  decided  that  sudden  death  must  be  a  shock,  and 
that  if  Cruff  found  himself  suddenly  "over  there"  he 
was  to  expect  to  be  conscious  of  Daphne  and  Fred  ^ — 
and  if  they  were  not  there  he  was  to  inquire  for  them 
at  once.  He  was  then  to  give  his  whole  mind  to  the 
business  in  hand — i.e.  to  getting  his  bearings  in  the  new 
environment,  and  was  to  keep  before  his  mind  that  I 
was  all  right,  that  I  knew  he  was  all  right  and  entirely 
himself  and  unchanged,  and  that  I  was  steadying  him 
and  helping  him  telepathically. 

And  for  me  it  was  settled  between  us  that  I  should 
hold  to  what  we  both  knew  as  truth — that  though  the 
old  companionship  of  bodily  life  was  broken  the  deeper 
intimacy  was  already  begun.  My  part  was  to  know  for 
him  what  he  would  wish  to  say  to  me,  and  to  feel  all 
the  cheerful  jolly  nearness  of  him  and  me  unchanged, 
to  refuse  grief  as  a  disturbing  element — and  to  make 
Cadoxton  a  happy-hunting  ground  for  him  as  we  had 
always  agreed  it  was  for  The  Darling. 

We  agreed  that  Fred's  presence  over  there  made 
any  strangeness  impossible,  and  that  we  could  never, 
either  Christopher  or  I,  feel  anything  past  between  us. 
You  see  neither  he  nor  I  ever  thought  of  Death  as  more 
than  a  doorway  admitting  to  fuller  and  freer  life. 

When  I  went  to  the  telephone  on  Thursday  night 
and  took  the  message  from  the  War  Office,  I  was 
alone  for  five  minutes,  and  in  that  time  I  slipped  my 
hand  firmly  into  his  and  began  my  part.,  as  he,  un- 
known to  me,  had  begun  his  part  a  few  days  earlier. 

'F.  W.  H.  Myers. 


68  CHRISTOPHER 

I  had  been  terribly  anxious  before.  I  knew  he  was 
in  the  trenches;  all  that  dropped  away.  One  of  the 
eventualities  we  had  provided  for  had  come,  and  it  was 
so  unutterably  blessed  to  think  we  were  together  in  a 
mutual  experience  we  had  discussed  and  provided  for. 

If  I  had  known  he  had  to  give  his  life  in  war — which 
was  utterly  foreign  to  his  type  of  mind  and  character — 
I  should  have  chosen  for  him  myself  just  such  a  death, 
and  on  his  first  going  into  action.  It  was  a  sudden 
sleep  and  a  sudden  awakening — nothing  to  forget.  I 
go  through  these  days  and  the  long,  long  nights,  just 
holding  his  hands — as  if  he  were  coming  out  of  an 
anaesthetic,  and  as  if  my  dear  familiar  face,  just  there, 
without  speech,  was  what  he  needed.  We  both  of  us 
know  the  truth,  and  he  is,  I  believe,  deeply  happy.  He 
always  looked  to  me  for  love  and  strength,  and  I  shall 
not  fail  him  now. 

This  is  not  to  say  that  there  isn't  a  side  of  me  which 
is  bleeding — but  it  is  not  the  deeper  side;  and  he  and 
I,  we  will  accept  that  side  too  as  inevitable,  seeing 
beneath  it  what  is  true  to  the  depths  of  both  of  us. 

I  want  everyone  to  know  this  and  to  help  him  and 
me  by  confirming  us  in  our  resolutions. 

Daphne's  Mother.* 

To  this  main  contemporary  statement  about  the 
compact,  a  few  further  extracts  may  be  appended,  all 
taken  from  letters  to  other  members  of  the  family.  The 
first  of  them  describes  what  the  home  circle  did  im- 
mediately after  they  had  heard  the  news:  which  they 

*  This  is  a  signature  frequently  used  by  Christopher's  mother  when 
writing  to  intimate  friends. 


THE  COMPACT  69 

received  through  a  War  Office  telegram,  transmitted 
from  Cardiff  Post  Office  by  telephone  at  8.15  p.m.  on 
September  6th,  1917,  three  days  after  the  event. 

Extract  from  a  letter  written  by  Christopher's  Mother 
on  September  'jth^  ^9^1  •>  ^^^  ^^y  ^fter  she 
heard  of  his  death. 

...  we  went  into  the  drawing-room  and  sat — as  if 
listening — trying  to  understand.  My  whole  desire  is 
not  to  fail  Cruff  now :  he  always  looked  to  me  for  love 
and  strength,  the  one  thought  in  his  mind  if  he  was 
not  killed  instantaneously  must  have  been  me — and  C. 
C.  T.  During  those  days  from  the  Sunday  to  last 
night  I  didn't  know,  and  was  very  anxious  and  de- 
pressed ;  now  I  know,  and  shall  never  be  anxious  about 
him  again,  and  what  I  am  doing  is  to  try  and  strengthen 
and  steady  him  in  the  new  surroundings.  It  is  a  shock 
being  killed  like  that.  He  has  ...  [a  friend]  and 
Fred — towers  of  strength — Daphne,  Papa,  and  many 
comrades,  Atkins  and  others.  If  he  was  killed  sud- 
denly it  may  have  been  some  little  time  before  he 
could  be  made  to  understand  that  he  was  what  we  call 
"dead."  That  is  what  makes  me  sit  here  struggling 
to  let  him  find  here  in  his  home  nothing  but  love  and 
understanding  of  what  has  happened  to  him.  He  is 
to  me  as  if  just  out  of  a  severe  operation — ^my  steady 
hand  in  his  is  what  he  needs  now,  for  he  loved  me 
much  ...  I  have  no  agonies  of  mind  as  to  where  his 
dear  young  body  lies — it  has  served  his  purpose  and  he 
has  outgrown  the  need  of  it;  my  deepest  self  knows 
only  this — that  he  is  utterly  safe  for  ever,  utterly  un- 


70  CHRISTOPHER 

changed,  undiminished^  his  own  bright,  happy  self. 
He  will  have  the  same  capacity  for  making  friends, 
he  will  soon  get  his  bearings  there,  and  whether  he 
does  it  happily  and  easily,  depends  on  what  telepathic 
impression  he  gets  from  us — but  especially  from  me. 
He  can't  speak  to  us — anyhow  not  yet — we  have  got 
to  know  in  our  minds,  for  him^  what  he  is  wanting  to 
say. 

Extract  from  another  letter,  of  date  September  I'^rd, 
1917. 

...  I  feel  all  you  do,  and  wrestle  against  it  because 
I  am  certain  that  if  anything  could  unsettle  him  over 
there  it  would  be  the  feeling  that  I  was  failing  him. 
It  is  we  who  have  to  bear  the  burden,  and  he  who  reaps 
complete  unchanging  well-being. 

"Is  any  burden  sore  when  one's  beloved  go  free? 
Come  pain  and  woe  to  me — my  well-beloved  goes  free." 

.  .  .  Don't  you  find  comfort  in  the  thought  that  it 
can't  be  very  long  before  you  see  him  again — and  then 
without  possibility  of  any  more  partings'?  Life  was 
always  tearing  him  from  me — school,  Sandhurst,  the 
war;  when  I  see  him  face  to  face  again  all  that  will 
have  ceased — once  found  I  shall  never  be  away  from 
him  again.  It  can't  be  so  very  long  for  any  of  us. 
(Set  against  the  background  of  Eternity,  how 
short!  !)  .  .  . 

The  same  feelings  and  the  same  absence  of  pros- 
trating grief  or  unreasoning  and  uncontrolled  emotion 
have  continued  to  this  day — a  victory  won  by  the 
steadfast  following  of  a  high  resolve. 


THE  COMPACT  71 

In  the  light  of  this  assured  conviction  and  unselfish 
preparation  and  determined  realisation  of  fact,  how 
impious  and  distrustful  appears  the  attitude  of  those 
who,  dominated  by  mediaeval  or  ante-mediseval  priest- 
craft, seek  anxiously  to  know  the  fate  of  their  de- 
parted, torment  themselves  with  hopes  and  fears,  ques- 
tion whether  they  are  "saved,"  try  to  pray  them  out 
of  purgatory  or  else  to  suppress  all  mention  of  them  in 
their  prayers,  and  endeavour  (often  fruitlessly)  to  con- 
vince themselves  that  eternal  fate  is  settled  at  once 
and  for  ever,  beyond  possibility  of  progress  or  recov- 
ery, at  the  instant  of  death ! 

Few  people  now  go  to  this  extreme  length;  though 
the  amount  of  torment  that  has  been  caused  by  such 
beliefs  in  the  past  can  hardly  be  exaggerated,  and  all 
this  gratuitous  pain  must  be  debited  to  the  account  of 
those  who  promulgated  and  sustained  so  senseless  a 
creed. 

But  many  there  are  still  who  have  anxious  doubts 
and  fears,  who  cannot  accept  the  simple  naturalness 
of  a  passing  over  into  the  unseen — i.e.  into  the  super- 
sensuous  where  our  earth-derived  sense-organs  are  help- 
less— who  fail  to  realise  that  we  remain  just  ourselves, 
without  sudden  access  of  knowledge  and  without  loss 
of  such  human  faculties  as  are  serviceable  amid  the 
new  surroundings;  surroundings  after  all,  it  may  be, 
not  so  very  different,  at  first,  from  those  of  earth/    In 

^If  a  working  hypothesis  which  commends  itself  to  me  may  be 
here  obtruded,  I  should  say  that  the  change  appears  to  be  a  libera- 
tion from  matter,  accompanied  by  a  retention  of  our  etherial  con- 
nection;  not  so  much  the   sudden   acquisition   of   something,   but  the 


72  CHRISTOPHER 

no  strange  land  do  we  find  ourselves,  if  we  have  been 
reasonably  prepared;  and  the  shock  of  death  will  be 
greatly  mitigated,  to  the  survivor  as  well  as  to  the 
departed,  when  more  people  are  able  to  make  a  com- 
pact akin  to  the  one  here  set  forth  and  heartily  com- 
mended. I  know  of  no  better  form  of  compact;  free 
from  superstition,  void  of  anxiety,  emancipated  from 
over-specific  or  sectarian  belief;  full  only  of  faith  in 
cosmic  wisdom  and  beneficence,  anxious  only  that  the 
lost  one  shall  be  worthy  of  his  promotion,  shall  make 
full  use  of  his  advantages,  and  shall  settle  down  as 
quickly  and  easily  as  possible  to  the  enjoyment  of  his 
recovered  friends  and  higher  opportunities  for  pro- 
gress. 

For  it  is  progress,  not  happiness,  that  should  be  most 
earnestly  desired.  Happiness  comes  when  not  directly 
sought  after;  it  should  be  among  the  things  that  are 
"added  unto"  those  who,  in  any  state  of  existence, 
seek  to  do  their  duty. 

And  of  the  innumerable  boys  who  have  gone  to  the 
front  and  entered  the  repulsive  complication  of  modem 
war,  with  no  taste  for  it  whatever  but  solely  from  a 
sense  of  duty,  how  great  must  be  the  happiness  that 
necessarily  follows  so  sublime  a  sacrifice  I 

No  survivor  should  doubt  for  a  moment  the  destiny 
in  store  for  such  as  these.  Not  all  of  equal  standard, 
truly;  not  all  have  had  equal   opportunities,   every 

retention  of  something  which  we  already  possess,  though  here  and 
now  its  possession  is  only  known  to  us  by  inference  from  indistinct 
phenomena — by,  as  it  were,  larval  indications. 


THE  COMPACT  73 

grade  may  be  represented;  social  conditions  have  been 
hard  on  some,  personal  weakness  has  enfeebled  others, 
but  there  is  a  place  or  condition  suited  to  every  grade, 
and  into  the  state  suited  to  him,  each  automatically 
and  naturally  enters;  retaining  his  earth-grown  char- 
acter, for  better  for  worse,  but  meeting  a, host  of  kindly 
helpers  who  will  set  him  on  his  feet  and  turn  his  face 
in  the  right  direction — the  direction  which  on  earth 
the  higher  part  of  himself,  had  it  not  been  for  the 
weakness  of  the  flesh,  would  have  desired  to  choose. 

Distinct  from  the  large  group  of  people  influenced 
by  theological  prejudice  and  superstitious  uncertain- 
ties, there  is  another  group  who  find  it  necessary  to 
contend  against  the  painful  ignorance  of  agnosticism; 
which,  unless  stoical  in  its  negative  security,  leads  to 
an  agonising  longing  for  a  word  or  a  sign,  for  some 
indication  of  continued  existence,  some  pledge  that 
everything  has  not  ceased,  that  love  and  memory  still 
continue.  This  attitude,  whatever  view  may  be  taken 
of  religious  observances  and  theological  doctrines,  is 
quite  unnecessary  in  the  light  of  scientific  knowledge 
to-day.  Doubtless  it  is  a  pardonable  but  it  is  an  essen- 
tially feeble  attitude.  The  strong  position  is  to  take 
sufficient  pains  to  assure  oneself,  by  critical  examina- 
tion of  scientific  evidence,  what  the  facts  really  are; 
and  then,  when  the  crisis  comes,  to  act  upon  that 
knowledge  in  full  and  assured  conviction  that  all  is 
well,  and  that  wise  and  undemanding  uncomplaining 
acquiescence  has  the  power  to  make  things  still  better. 


74  CHRISTOPHER 

The  steadying,  the  strengthening,  the  almost  exhil- 
arating influence  of  this  compact,  in  the  present  in- 
stance, was  conspicuous.  It  broke  the  blow  most  ef- 
fectively, it  enabled  the  "gain  of  loss"  to  be  realised  to 
the  full. 

It  was  so,  clearly,  on  this  side;  what  of  its  effect  on 
the  other"? 

I  say  nothing  about  that  at  present,  the  time  is  not 
ripe;  but  those  who  know  and  are  able  to  testify  have 
on  this  subject  no  uncertain  voice.  Let  that  statement 
suffice  for  the  present. 

All  that  I  permit  myself  to  say  further  on  what  at 
present  is  considered  to  be  the  supernormal  aspect  of 
things,  though  it  is  really  normal  enough,  is  that  it 
can  all  be  understood  as  in  simple  harmony  with  or- 
thodox teaching  concerning  "a  cloud  of  witnesses"  and 
the  "communion  of  saints,"  and,  further,  that  we  in 
the  body  can  be  the  source  of  an  accession  of  strength 
to  those  in  the  Beyond;  Non  sine  nobis  consumma- 
rentur. 

Whether  supported  on  the  wings  of  faith,  or  led 
along  the  more  humdrum  pathway  of  knowledge, 
most  of  us  surely  know  that  the  departed  are  not 
wholly  beyond  our  ken;  and  if  so  we  should  realise 
that  those  on  the  other  side  are  grateful  for  our  help. 
We  may  long  for  them  to  help  us,  but  let  us  see  to  it 
that  we  help  them.  Be  assured  that  they  feel  our  atti- 
tude— love  makes  them  sensitive ;  consciously  or  uncon- 
sciously we  have  an  effect  upon  them — a  strengthening 
or  a  debilitating  effect ;  and  amid  the  shock  of  surprise, 


THE  COMPACT  75 

the  suddenness  of  untimely  death,  let  us  not  fail  them 
in  all  high  endeavour  to  the  utmost  of  our  power. 

In  normal  times  the  stress  is  far  less  severe.  Old 
people  pass  away  in  the  course  of  nature,  prepared  by 
experience  and  by  feebleness  of  body  for  the  transition. 
In  such  cases  there  need  be  no  shock  at  all,  but  a  peace- 
ful reawakening  with  comparatively  easy  understand- 
ing of  what  has  happened. 

But  amid  the  wholesale  destruction  caused  by  in- 
human war,  strong  healthy  vigorous  lives  are  exploded 
into  apparent  nonentity;  and  unless  they  had  some 
previous  knowledge  of  what  to  expect,  when  they  sud- 
denly find  themselves  apart  from  their  bodies  and  sepa- 
rated from  their  old  surroundings,  the  experience  may 
occasionally  be  an  unnerving  shock,  an  experience  in- 
credible and  prostrating. 

Hence  the  need  for  help — and  many  willing  and 
active  helpers  on  the  other  side  undoubtedly  there  are. 
But  it  is  open  to  us  to  help  too.  The  future  is  indeed 
proverbially  unknown  to  us,  but  insurance  against  its 
liabilities  is  possible ;  and  so  simple  and  easy  an  insur- 
ance against  the  shock  of  transition  as  the  one  here  sug- 
gested, might  be  a  widely  prevalent  precaution.  All 
that  is  needed  is  a  timely  anticipation  of  what  may  hap- 
pen, a  compact  between  living  friends  as  to  their  mu- 
tual attitude  when  to  either  the  event  occurs,  and  then 
a  determination  faithfully  to  execute  each  his  part  of 
the  bargain. 

The  facts  which  establish  persistence  of  existence 
or  survival  may  not  be  generally  known,  but  they  lie 


76  CHRISTOPHER 

open  to  investigation  and  are  plain  to  those  who  seek. 
Some  people  seem  to  imagine,  not  only  that  there  is  no 
positive  evidence,  but  that  orthodox  science  has  some- 
thing definite  to  say  against  what  is  popularly  called 
"immortality," — as  if  there  were  some  positive  evi- 
dence against  the  possible  survival  of  memory,  charac- 
ter, and  affection.  There  is  nothing  of  the  kind.  There 
is  no  doubt  plenty  of  evidence  that  the  brain  ceases  to 
be  available  as  an  instrument,  that  the  body  as  we 
know  it  returns  to  the  earth  whence  it  came.  And  the 
more  this  is  emphasised  in  religious  formularies,  the 
better;  for  much  semi-scientific  prejudice  against  sur- 
vival can  probably  trace  its  origin  to  the  strange  and 
repellent  but  venerable  error  that  these  material  bodies 
are  of  permanent  importance  and  will  at  some  future 
time  be  resuscitated.  Hence  the  phrase  "resurrection 
of  the  body"  often  excites  derision, — though  it  is 
known  to  be  capable  of  interpretation  in  a  serious  and 
partially  intelligible  sense  with  a  little  ingenuity,  as 
"resurrection  body,"<^w/ia  TiTeu/taTuoj/,  and  in  other  similar 
ways  familiar  to  theologians,  but  unfamiliar  and  alien 
to  the  biological  and  physical  sciences. 

It  is  manifest  that  many  of  these  sciences  are  con- 
cerned specially  with  the  physiological  organism,  its 
structure,  function,  specific  energies,  and  nothing  else; 
and  to  trouble  specialists  in  those  sciences  with  ideas 
about  what  happens  after  the  death  and  destruction  of 
this  body  is  irrelevant  and  often  irritating.  Some  of 
them,  however,  occasionally  stray  beyond  the  bounda- 
ries of  their  special  field  into  the  broader  region  of 


THE  COMPACT  77 

philosophy  for  a  time,  and  there  they  are  amenable  to 
argument.  But  argument  on  broader  lines  is  wasted 
on  them  while  they  remain  purely  physiological  or  bio- 
logical workers  in  the  narrow  sense,  while  they  are  con- 
cerned only  with  the  nature  and  properties  of  the  mate- 
rial vehicle  of  life,  and  are  not  concerned  with  life 
itself. 

A  fact  well  known  to  philosophers  is  that  even 
though,  according  to  the  views  of  leading  physicists, 
the  whole  fabric  of  the  material  universe  may  gradu- 
ally fall  to  destruction  and  return  to  cold  or  chaos, 
the  immaterial  entities  of  life  and  mind  need  share  no 
such  dissolution.  But  it  is  a  fact  that  can  never  be 
verified  in  the  dissecting  room:  its  truth  or  otherwise 
must  necessarily  be  established  by  psychological  in- 
vestigation. That  biological  science  has,  or  ought  to 
have,  an  open  mind  on  subjects  beyond  its  immediate 
and  specialised  ken  can  be  illustrated  from  many  dis- 
tinguished writers,  but  I  will  content  myself  with  ap- 
pealing to  a  clarum  et  venerabile  nomen  and  citing  the 
cautious  and  tentative  admission  of  Charles  Darwin : — 

"With  respect  to  immortality,  nothing  shows  me  so  clearly 
how  strong  and  almost  instinctive  a  belief  it  is  as  the  consid- 
eration of  the  view  now  held  by  most  physicists,  namely,  that 
the  sun  with  all  the  planets  will  in  time  grow  too  cold  for 
life,  unless  indeed  some  great  body  dashes  into  the  sun,  and 
thus  gives  it  fresh  life. 

"Believing  as  I  do  that  man  in  the  distant  future  will  be  a 
far  more  perfect  creature  than  he  now  is,  it  is  an  intolerable 
thought  that  he  and  all  other  sentient  beings  are  doomed  to 
complete  annihilation  after  such  long-continued  slow  progress. 
To  those  who  fully  admit  the  immortality  of  the  human  soul, 
the  destruction  of  our  world  will  not  appear  so  dreadful." 


78  CHRISTOPHER 

There  is  a  conservation  of  matter  and  of  energy, 
there  may  be  a  conservation  of  life ;  or  if  not  of  life,  of 
scMnething  which  transcends  life.  I  quote  the  assured 
utterance  of  a  pioneer  in  psychic  realms : 

"No  terrene  Matter  or  Energy,  but  Love  itself,  is  the  im- 
perishable of  that  higher  world ;  so  that  earth's  brief  encounter 
with  some  spirit,  quickly  dear,  may  be  the  precursory  omen  of 
a  far-off  espousal,  or  the  unconscious  recognition  of  fond  long- 
severed  souls."  ^ 

And  I  solemnly  believe  that  by  our  investigations 
into  these  at  present  dim  regions  we  are  preparing  the 
way  for  apprehension  of  a  truth  which  shall  be  uni- 
versally recognised  in  the  future. 

"The  humblest  scouts  who  strive  loyally  to  push  forward 
the  frontier  of  Science,  even  though  Science  at  first  disown 
them,  are  sure  in  time  to  hear  her  marching  legions  possess 
the  unfrequented  way." 

*  F.  W.  H.  Myers,  "Science  and  a  Future  Life." 


THE  COMPACT  79 


SUPPLEMENT  TO  CHAPTER  IV 

In  further  illustration  of  the  working  of  the  scheme 
or  compact  now  sufficiently  explained,  I  am  permitted 
to  conclude  this  chapter  by  citing  a  few  more  private 
records,  in  order  to  show  how  the  arrangement  made  a 
month  or  two  before  death  was  begun  directly  the 
event  occurred,  and  how  effectively  and  thoroughly 
it  was  executed. 

The  following  brief  private  notes — some  of  them 
rough  jottings  on  odd  scraps  of  paper — were  made 
from  time  to  time  by  Christopher's  Mother,  mostly 
within  a  few  days  of  the  shock,  the  object  being  to 
record  for  her  own  use  thoughts  which  came  to  her 
during  "hours  of  insight,"  in  the  hope  that  they  might 
aid  in  keeping  her  calm  and  steadfast,  and  concentrated 
in  purpose,  during  any  "hours  of  gloom"  that  might 
supervene. 

By  permission  these  private  and  personal  notes  are 
reproduced,  solely  in  the  hope  that  they  may  help 
others  in  like  sorrow. 

It  was  a  very  happy  ending  to  the  earthly  part  of  a  very 

happy  life. 

The  impression  I  want  to  convey  to  him  is  this :  that  I  know 
about  his  bodily  death  and  the  happy  circumstances  of  it — 
that  I  accept  this  event  as  part  of  our  mutual  experience — 
that  I  share  the  whole  in  perfect  companionship,  ready  and 
able  to  face  and  carry  out  my  part  of  it,  and  knowing  that 
for  him  it  means  more  life  and  fuller. 


80  CHRISTOPHER 

He  has  won  the  Dark  Tower,  he  has  awakened  from  an  ill 
dream  and  "across  all  this  waste  and  desolate  battlefield"  he 
has  attained  to  the  haven  where  he  would  be.^ 

The  one  thing  that  could  spoil  it  all  for  him  is  to  see  pain 
in  my  thoughts.  He  must  see  love  and  familiar  greeting  to 
his  unchanged  self,  and  nothing  else:  and  his  home  must  be 
full  of  happy  thoughts  about  him. 

"It  is  all  right  with  me  and  all  right  with  you;  don't  be 
troubled  about  me  and  I  am  not  troubled  about  you — none  of 
the  conventional  ideas  about  life  and  death  meant  anything  to 
you  and  me,  so  we  haven't  got  to  get  over  anything;  we  can 
both  of  us  know  at  once  that  we  are  each  unchanged  and  as 
close  as  ever." 

The  fact  that  this  experience  deepens  in  me  every  conviction 
I  ever  had  about  life  and  death, — that  my  belief  in  "Love  is 
all  and  Death  is  nought"  absolutely  stands  the  test  of  this 
shock  and  rending  of  my  outer  life, — is  recognised  by  me. 

Let  me  remember  the  words  of  ...  (a  friend)  written  on 
the  day  her  husband  died:  "Our  long  companionship  here  is 
broken  and  the  deeper  intimacy  begun." 

"In  no  strange  land." 

"God  created  man  to  be  immortal  and  made  him  to  be  an 
image  of  His  own  eternity." 

He  had  no  fear  of  the  act  of  death  whatever — and  not  one 
shadow  of  doubt  but  that  it  was  a  physical  event  admitting 
his  real  self — unchanged — "just  him" — into  a  more  complete 
stage  of  life.  He  promised  me  not  to  think  of  me  as  over- 
come— but  of  me  as  that  I  should  be  knowing  the  main  lines 
of  his  then  situation,  so  that  one  factor  of  anxiety  or  worry 
should  be  entirely  eliminated  for  him.     We  made  sure  that 

^This  refers  to  a  passage  in  one  of  Christopher's  last  letters  home, 
written  before  going  into  the  Trenches  {see  page  255) : — 

"Well,  the  path  lies  before  me.  I  feel  like  Childe  Roland, 
and  when  I  have  won  the  Dark  Tower — across  all  this  waste 
and  desolate  battlefield — I  shall  return,  please  God,  to  'the 
haven  where  I  would  be.'  And  I  hope  this  time  will  soon  come 
when  we  shall  meet  again  and  rejoice  together." 


THE  COMPACT  81 

whatever  came  we  were  already  prepared  for  it,  having  mapped 
out  what  each  was  to  do,  and  certain  that  each  would  proceed 
along  the  predetermined  way. 

I  would  not  exchange  the  happiness  of  being  his  mother 
and  having  his  companionship — the  companionship  of  his  dear 
mind — for  anything  this  world  has  to  offer.  What  I  have  is 
the  thing  to  think  of.    "All  that  is  at  all,  lasts  ever." 


A   SONNET  1 

February  ijtk,  1918. 
To  all  who  wait,  blindfolded  by  the  flesh, 
Upon  the  stammered  promise  that  we  give, 
Tangling  ourselves  in  the  material  mesh 
A  moment,  while  we  tell  you  that  we  live, 
Greeting,  and  reassurance;  never  doubt 
That  the  slow  tidings  of  our  joyful  state, 
So  hardly  given,  so  haltingly  made  out. 
Are  but  the  creaking  hinges  of  the  gate.  .  .  . 
Beyond,  the  garden  lies;  and  as  we  turn, 
Wond'ring  how  much  you  hear,  how  much  you  guess. 
Once  more  the  roses  of  glad  service  burn 
With  hues  of  loving  thought  and  thankfulness ; 

Once  more  we  move  among  them,  strong  and  free. 

Marvelling  yet  in  our  felicity. 

^This  sonnet,  obtained  by  "influenced"  writing  and  attributed 
to  the  inspiration  of  F.  W.  H.  M.,  is  among  certain  material,  not 
yet  complete,  which  is  coming  through  to  the  influenced  writer  and 
to  others  in  the  form  of  an  account  of  the  after-life.  Assent  has 
been  given  to  the  preliminary  appearance  of  the  sonnet  in  this  place. 
It  was  not  received  by  any  relative  of  Christopher  or  Raymond,  and 
has   no   specific  connection  with  either. 


PART  II 


MEMOIR 
AUTOBIOGRAPHICAL   FRAGMENT 

AND 

REPRESENTATIVE  LETTERS 


To  that  Immortal  Company^ 

The  Second  Lieutenants  aged  19 

who  fell  in  the  Great  War. 

1914.    .    .    . 


.  .  .  Where  our  desires  are  and  our  hopes  profound, 
Felt  as  a  well-spring  that  is  hidden  from  sight, 
To  the  innermost  heart  of  their  own  land  they  are  known 
As  the  stars  are  known  to  the  night; 

As  the  stars  that  shall  be  bright  when  we  are  dust 
Moving  in  marches  upon  the  heavenly  plain. 
As  the  stars  that  are  starry  in  the  time  of  our  darkness, 
To  the  end,  to  the  end,  they  remain. 

Laurence  Binyon,  "For  the  Fallen." 


CHAPTER  V 

MEMOIR 

By  his  Mother 

"Sunshine  was  he 
In  the  winter  day; 
And  in  the  midsummer 
Coolness  and  shade." 
From  an  Arab  poem,  quoted  by  Emerson 
in  "Man  the  Reformer." 

Christopher  Tennant  was  bom  at  Cadoxton  Lodge 
in  the  Vale  of  Neath,  on  the  loth  of  October,  1897, 
the  eldest  child  of  his  parents. 

The  story  of  his  nineteen  years  of  bodily  life  can 
be  told  in  outline  in  a  few  words. 

He  went  to  a  preparatory  school  (Mr.  Helbert, 
West  Downs,  Winchester)  in  May,  1907,  and  re- 
mained there  for  four  years.  In  1911  he  went  on  to 
Winchester  (Kingsgate  House,  Mr.  Beloe,  and  later 
Mr.  Archibald  Wilson),  and  was  there  until  July, 
1916,  being  then  in  Senior  Division  Sixth  Book,  and  a 
School  and  House  Prefect.  He  passed  into  Sandhurst 
as  a  Prize  Cadet,  and  passing  out  in  April,  1917,  was 
gazetted  to  the  Welsh  Guards.  He  joined  his  Regi- 
ment early  in  May,  and  crossed  to  France  with  a  draft 

85 


86  CHRISTOPHER 

on  August  Qth.  At  dawn  on  the  morning  of  September 
3rd  he  fell  in  action  in  the  trenches  near  Langemarck, 
at  the  age  of  19  years  and  10  months. 

His  childhood  was  chiefly  spent  in  the  old  Welsh 
home  to  which  he  was  so  passionately  devoted.  Cadox- 
ton  Lodge  is  an  ancient  rambling  white-washed  manor- 
house  lying  near  the  mouth  of  the  Vale  of  Neath,  a  val- 
ley famous  for  its  beauty,  its  woods,  its  waterfalls,  its 
guardian  ranges  of  hills.  The  house  itself  is  surrounded 
by  one  of  those  old-world  gardens  where  old-fashioned 
flowers  lift  year  by  year  familiar  faces  in  the  same  spot. 
The  large  walled  kitchen  garden  is  not  so  much  an 
adjunct  to  as  an  integral  part  of  the  flower  garden, 
from  the  fact  that  a  terrace  walk  some  two  hundred 
yards  long  stretches  past  the  house  and  on  through  the 
kitchen  garden  to  a  bright  patch  of  flowers  and  an  ivy- 
canopied  seat.  The  house  faces  south,  wreathed  in  vine 
and  climbing  rose.  On  this  front  grows  what  is  said 
to  be  the  largest  magnolia  tree  in  Wales,  the  girth  of 
the  bole  being  over  ^^  inches.  From  August  onwards  it 
bears  a  wealth  of  large  white  blossoms,  flowers  whose 
heavy  scent  pervades  both  house  and  garden.  The  an- 
cient lead  waterpipes  and  cisterns  date  probably  from 
the  seventeenth  century.  The  cisterns  are  decorated 
with  the  figure  of  Time  holding  a  scythe,  and  the  pipes 
with  floral  designs  intermingled  with  leopards'  heads 
and  the  face  of  a  man  blowing  a  drapery  from  his  half- 
open  mouth. 

Beyond  the  garden  and  meadow  the  Vale  spreads  out 
across  to  the  beautiful  rounded  hills  which  close  it  in 


CADOXTON    LODGE 


MEMOIR  87 

on  the  south,  Neath  lying  a  mile  to  the  west,  the  tall 
spire  of  St.  David's  church  and  the  stacks  of  the  nu- 
merous works  piercing  the  sky. 

The  north  front  of  the  house,  with  its  pillared  por- 
tico and  ancient  waterpipes,  is  clear  of  creepers,  and 
looks  out  over  rising  ground,  part  pasture,  part  wood- 
land, which  stretches  up  to  a  tract  of  land  called  by 
Christopher  "the  Charlotte  Bronte  country,"  from  its 
likeness  to  the  scenery  round  Haworth  described  by 
Mrs.  Gaskell — a  tableland  of  bog  and  short  mountain 
grass  cut  by  grey  stone  walls,  gay  at  certain  times  of 
the  year  with  the  purple  of  heather,  the  yellow  of  flow- 
ering gorse,  the  blue  of  a  small  scabious,  and  the  crim- 
son patches  of  bog  plants.  There  is  a  gate  in  the  fur- 
thest of  the  stone  walls  that  admits  into  a  land  of  un- 
chartered freedom — magic  ground  for  a  young  boy. 
The  great  sides  of  Mynydd  March  Hywel  sweep  up, 
dun  and  grey,  to  a  height  of  nearly  1,400  feet:  a  few 
sheep  and  shrill-crying  curlews  are  all  the  company  to 
be  met  with  here. 

The  woods  of  the  lower  ground,  the  "Charlotte 
Bronte  country,"  and  the  wilder  mountain-side  beyond, 
were  the  favourite  haunts  of  Christopher  from  the  time 
when  his  small  sturdy  legs  could  climb  the  hills  down 
to  the  last  days.  They  exercised  a  profound  influence 
on  his  character  and  tastes.  There  are  view-points 
from  which  one  looks  down  on  to  the  Vale  of  Neath 
stretched  out  below  for  almost  its  entire  length,  and  on 
the  still  wilder  Dulais  valley  hemmed  in  by  the  Brecon- 
shire  hills,  snow-capped  on  winter  days.    Standing  with 


88  CHRISTOPHER 

his  Mother  once  on  such  a  point,  when  he  was  about 
thirteen  years  old,  she  suggested  that  they  should  give 
the  place  a  name,  as  they  came  there  so  often.  "It  is 
too  beautiful  to  have  a  name,"  he  answered — "let  us 
call  it  The  Nameless  Spot,  like  the  tomb  of  Moses" — 
and  as  The  Nameless  Spot  it  was  ever  after  known  in 
the  family  circle. 

As  a  child  Christopher  was  passionate,  sensitive,  and 
absolutely  fearless.  He  was  the  despair  of  some  gov- 
ernesses and  the  joy  of  others.  The  Autobiographical 
Fragment  (Chapter  VI)  renders  it  unnecessary  to  dwell 
upon  this  stage  of  his  development. 

When  he  was  9  years  old  there  occurred  an  event 
which  was  to  influence  deeply  his  inner  life — the  birth 
of  his  only  sister  in  January  1907.  Among  the  circle 
of  cousins  and  friends  it  so  happened  that  there  were 
no  children  younger  than  he — it  was  his  first  experience 
of  watching  S  tiny  life  unfold,  and  it  was  one  which 
left  its  mark  on  him  for  life.  Daphne,  known  by  the 
name  of  "The  Darling"  amongst  her  kindred,  was  a 
beautiful  and  happy  babe,  and  her  nursery  became 
Christopher's  favourite  haunt.  It  seemed  to  the  boy 
as  if  some  miraculous  treasure  had  been  let  down  from 
Heaven  into  his  world ;  and  if  the  effect  of  her  com- 
ing had  been  great,  the  effect  of  her  going — of  the  sud- 
den stilling  of  all  that  beauty  and  budding  intelli- 
gence-r-was  even  greater.  She  died  when  Christopher 
was  nearly  1 1  years  old,  and  carried  with  her  some- 
thing of  the  boy's  very  self,  which  became,  as  it  were, 
rooted  in  a  divine  security,  in  some  world  larger  and 


MEMOIR  89 

freer  than  that  of  sense.  Her  influence  spurred  him  to 
live  at  his  best,  to  be  in  the  root  of  him  honest  and  true 
and  good.  The  sense  of  her  unseen  presence  gilded  the 
grey  hours  of  loneliness  which  school  life  was  soon  to 
bring,  and  forged  an  ever  closer  link  between  Mother 
and  Son. 

The  writer  does  not  think  that  after  the  first  shock 
this  experience  saddened  his  life,  but  it  certainly  en- 
riched it,  and  gave  him  an  outlook  on  life  and  death 
which  the  first  touch  of  early  manhood  found  unshaken 
and  powerful  to  guide  and  to  control. 

The  happiness  of  those  nursery  days  returned  to 
him  in  a  great  measure  through  the  birth  of  two 
small  brothers,  Alexander,  bom  1909,  and  Henry, 
known  to  his  intimates  as  "The  Wise  One,"  born  1913. 
The  difference  in  age  between  him  and  these  two  small 
folk  made  his  relationship  to  them  almost  a  fatherly 
one.  What  he  meant  to  them  and  what  they  meant  to 
him  is  not  dwelt  on  here. 

Another  influence — not  indeed  separate  from  that  of 
the  little  sister's,  rather  springing  from  and  bound  up 
with  the  thought  of  her — came  to  him  about  this  time. 

Frederic  Myers,  the  poet  and  psychologist,  whose 
name  is  for  ever  identified  with  Psychical  Research, 
was  his  uncle  by  marriage.  He  died  when  Christopher 
was  35^  years  old,  and  it  is  certain  that  the  child  had 
no  recollection  of  him.  But  he  became  a  living  reality 
in  the  boy's  life.  To  hear  him  speak  of  "Fred"  was 
to  realise  at  once  that  a  kinship  of  spirit,  some  inex- 
plicable aflfinity  of  soul,  existed  between  them.    Their 


90  CHRISTOPHER 

tastes  were  not  dissimilar.  Frederic  Myers'  love  of 
the  Classics  found  a  reflection,  as  time  passed,  in  Chris- 
topher's mind.  Both  shared  to  the  full  the  love  of 
Nature  in  its  wilder  aspects,  and  of  poetry ;  both  were 
haunted  by  visions  of 

"Something  far  more  deeply  interfused, 
Whose  dwelling  is  the  light  of  setting  suns, 
And  the  round  ocean  and  the  living  air. 
And  the  blue  sky,  and  in  the  mind  of  man; 
A  motion  and  a  spirit,  that  impels 
All  thinking  things,  all  objects  of  all  thought, 
And  rolls  through  all  things  .  .  ." 

both  had  a  vivid  interest  in  the  question  of  what  death 
means  to  human  personality. 

As  Christopher  grew  up  he  became  well  read  in 
Frederic  Myers'  works,  both  prose  and  poetry. 
From  the  age  of  15  onwards  he  bought  and  studied 
many  books  on  telepathy,  clairvoyance,  and  dreams.  It 
was  perhaps  because  he  himself  was  such  an  absolutely 
healthy-minded,  cheerful,  efficient  creature  that  he 
could  do  this  without  anyone  thinking  it  strange.  The 
publications  of  the  Society  for  Psychical  Research  (of 
which  he  was  never  a  member)  were  eagerly  devoured 
when  they  came  his  way.  From  1912  onwards  his 
close  friendship  with  the  family  of  Mr.  Gerald  Bal- 
four (President  of  the  S.  P.  R.  1906-1907)  brought 
him  into  contact  with  men  and  women  who  had  made 
a  study  of  that  branch  of  science  with  which  the  Society 
concerns  itself.  He  became  a  diligent  reader  of  Sir 
Oliver  Lodge's  books.    He  discussed  with  his  Mother, 


MEMOIR  91 

sometimes  far  into  the  night,  the  problems  raised  by 
these  matters  and  their  bearing  on  life  in  general;  but 
it  was  always  the  thought  of  the  little  sister  that  lay  at 
the  back  of  his  mind.  Before  his  death  he  had  attained 
a  complete  conviction  that  life  and  love  and  memory 
survive  the  grave,  and  before  he  sailed  for  France  he 
spoke  of  the  possibility  of  his  falling  in  battle,  and  ar- 
ranged with  his  Mother  exactly  what  her  actions,  and 
his,  would  be  after  his  death,  if  this  occurred. 

Christopher  was  always  a  great  reader.  From  the 
time  he  was  ten  years  old  onwards  he  read  omnivor- 
ously.  Reading  aloud  was  a  part  of  the  daily  round 
of  the  life  of  his  family,  and  by  this  means  he  laid 
hold  of  a  large  portion  of  that  great  inheritance  of 
English  Literature  which  our  children  may  possess  for 
the  asking.  Even  in  those  early  days  Blake,  Tennyson, 
Browning,  Wordsworth  were  becoming  old  friends,  and 
from  the  age  of  fifteen  onwards  he  read  much  poetry 
under  whatever  circumstances  he  found  himself. 

His  love  of  music  was  also  marked.  He  never  missed 
the  chance  of  hearing  classical  music,  and  would  often 
quote  the  saying,  "He  who  has  heard  the  Fifth  Sym- 
phony has  known  the  mind  of  Beethoven."  London, 
and  to  some  extent  Winchester,  afforded  him  the  op- 
portunities he  prized,  but  it  was  a  humble  instrument 
— no  more  than  a  pianola — that  gave  him  the  larger 
part  of  his  first-hand  knowledge  of  the  works  of  his 
two  special  divinities,  Beethoven  and  Wagner.  The 
long  sunlit  summer  afternoons  and  the  long  winter 
evenings  which  he  spent  at  the  pianola  in  the  Music 


92  CHRISTOPHER 

Room  at  Cadoxton — a  large  white-walled  room  with 
high  vaulted  roof,  perfect  for  sound — were  among  the 
happiest  of  his  life.  He  played  the  pianola  with  great 
skill,  and  got  an  immense  amount  out  of  this  Cinderella 
of  musical  instruments.  To  hear  it  played  by  another 
was  to  realise  this  at  once. 

No  picture  of  the  boy  would  be  complete  which 
omitted  to  mention  his  invincible  gaiety  of  spirits,  his 
keen  sense  of  fun  (degenerating  in  earlier  da^'^s  into  a 
habit  of  practical  joking,  which  was  sternly  repressed 
by  outraged  "grown-ups"),  his  love  of  amusement  and 
good  company,  his  powers  of  mimicry  (the  latter  much 
appreciated  by  the  annual  "private  theatricals"  party, 
in  which  he  always  took  a  leading  role,  usually  dying 
with  shocking  realism  under  the  blow  of  a  home-made 
cardboard  dagger),  his  love  of  the  theatre,  his  delight 
in  impromptu  entertainments,  and  his  affection  for  the 
ices  of  Gunter,  the  consuming  of  which  in  the  Berkeley 
Square  rooms  took  on  by  degrees  an  almost  ritual  sig- 
nificance for  him  and  his  mother.  Up  to  the  last 
Christmas  the  fiction  of  the  visit  of  Father  Christmas 
to  fill  expectant  stockings  was  maintained  between 
them.  The  small  socks  gave  place  to  hand-knit  stock- 
ings, and  these  again  to  capacious  shooting  stockings, 
the  filling  of  which  in  the  dead  of  night  became  an  in- 
creasingly difficult  problem. 

At  the  age  of  9  a  great  upheaval  came  into  the  boy's 
life.  The  inexorable  law  of  custom  as  it  exists  in  his 
caste  drew  him  from  the  sunny  valley  of  home  up  into 
the  bleak  pass  of  school  life.    It  was  inevitable  that  he 


MEMOIR  93 

should  feel  the  change  acutely,  and  equally  inevitable 
that,  given  his  temperament  and  tastes,  school  life 
should  have  remained  to  him  throughout  as  something 
alien  to  his  spirit. 

The  fragment  of  autobiography  which  he  has  left 
gives  something  of  this  sense  of  a  being  "moving  about 
in  worlds  not  realised."  The  sense  of  the  irksomeness 
of  many  of  the  features  of  school  life  gave  place,  to 
some  extent,  to  one  of  real  enjoyment  when  at  Win- 
chester he  reached  a  place  in  the  school  which  brought 
him  into  close  relation  with  such  men  as  Mr.  Frank 
Carter  and  the  Head  Master,  Mr.  Montague  Rendall. 
To  say  that  he  delighted  in  them  would  be  no  exag- 
geration. He  loved,  too,  the  beauty  of  the  old  build- 
ings, of  the  great  Cathedral — which  by  some  strange 
freak  of  the  Powers  that  Be  was  "out  of  bounds"  when 
he  first  entered  the  school — of  the  views  from  Hills  ^ ; 
and  he  became  linked  in  ties  of  close  friendship  with 
some  of  the  men  in  his  house,  more  especially  after  he 
had  become  a  prefect. 

But  it  is  true  to  say  that  having  "gone  through  the 
mill"  himself,  he  maintained  a  critical  attitude  towards 
the  Public  School  system  as  he  had  known  it.  Those 
who  wish  to  follow  this  point  further  are  advised  to 
read  that  powerful  novel  written  by  a  schoolboy,  "The 
Loom  of  Youth,"  by  Alec  Waugh.  The  writer  received 
a  few  painful  letters  dealing  with  this  side  of  school 

*  St.  Catherine's  Hill,  about  three-quarters  of  a  mile  from  the  Col- 
lege, a  place  associated  with  ancient  school  customs,  of  which  names- 
calling  twice  a  year  still  survives. 


94  CHRISTOPHER 

life,  written  from  1913  onwards,  but  looking  back  she 
cannot  regret  that  her  son  was  a  rebel  (not  for  noth- 
ing was  he  ninth  in  direct  descent  from  Oliver  Crom- 
well) against  the  established  order  of  things  as  it  exists 
in  Public  Schools.  It  gave  him  a  sturdiness  of  charac- 
ter and  an  independence  of  outlook  which  prevented 
him  from  drifting,  and  the  experience  was  no  doubt 
wholesome. 

".  .  .  welcome  each  rebuff 
That  turns  Earth's  smoothness  rough, 
Each  sting  that  bids  nor  sit  nor  stand  but  go!" 

His  visions  of  a  life  at  Trinity  College,  Cambridge,  of 
which  he  became  a  member,  but  which  he  never  actually 
entered,  melted  away  before  the  actualities  of  the  Great 
War.  Having  realised  that  he  had  "got  to  be  a  sol- 
dier," as  he  expressed  it,  it  was  characteristic  of  him 
that  he  should  wish  to  learn  his  job  thoroughly.  Mili- 
tary life  seemed  to  offer  him  nothing  congenial;  he 
certainly  was  not  inspired  by  any  hatred  of  the  German 
people,  and  the  whole  business  of  war  appeared  to  him 
to  be  as  wearisome  as  it  was  horrible.  But  the  call, 
once  given,  was  nobly  responded  to.  His  classical  work 
was  set  aside  without  a  murmur,  "working  for  marks" 
— a  form  of  occupation  he  always  despised — was  car- 
ried on  up  to  the  eve  of  the  Sandhurst  entrance  exam- 
ination, and  once  he  entered  the  R.M.C.  he  laid  his  up- 
hill shoulder  to  the  wheel  and  put  his  whole  energy 
into  the  round  of  work  there,  remote  as  it  was  from 
all  that  had  hitherto  occupied  his  mind. 


MEMOIR  95 

Much  in  the  atmosphere  of  Sandhurst  was  uncon- 
genial. The  vast  number  of  youths  of  different  edu- 
cation and  different  traditions  gathered  together  there 
meant  inevitable  friction.  The  lack  of  any  human  re- 
lation between  the  ofBcials  and  the  individual  cadets, 
the  monotony  of  the  life,  the  strenuous  physical  exer- 
tion, often  beyond  what  is  wise  for  boys  of  l8,  the 
occasional  outbursts  of  rowdiness — all  these  things  were 
displeasing.  But  there  was  gold  amid  the  grey.  He 
thoroughly  enjoyed  the  society  of  some  kindred  spirits 
in  his  Company  (K  Company,  stationed  in  the  Old 
Buildings),  and  in  particular  he  rejoiced  in  the  friend- 
ship of  Peter  Harris  ^,  whom  he  had  known  in  early 
childhood. 

In  April,  1917,  Christopher  passed  out  of  Sandhurst, 
twelfth  on  the  list,  and  on  April  30th  he  was  gazetted 
to  the  Welsh  Guards. 

To  understand  what  this  meant  to  him  it  is  necessary 
to  say  a  few  words  about  his  passionate  pride  in  the 
land  of  his  birth  and  in  the  Welsh  people.  Though 
sprung  from  a  stock  predominantly  English,  he  had  a 
strain  of  pure  Welsh  blood  in  him  on  his  mother's  side. 
He  counted  himself  wholly  a  Welshman,  and  national- 
ity for  him  meant  Welsh  nationality.  He  loved  the 
Welsh  people  with  an  understanding  love  which  is  de- 
nied to  the  Saxon.  He  understood  their  faults,  he  per- 
ceived their  spiritual  and  intellectual  qualities,  he  re- 
sponded to  their  quick-hearted  likes  and  dislikes.  His 
relations  with  the  dwellers  on  the  property  of  his  fam- 

*2Dd-Lieut.  P.  £.  C.  Harris,  3rd  Battalion,  Coldstream  Guards. 


96  CHRISTOPHER 

ily  were  particularly  happy.  A  strong  democrat,  he 
never  posed  as  "the  young  squire" — indeed,  one  of  the 
characteristics  which  won  for  him  so  wide  a  circle  of 
friends  in  such  different  walks  of  life  was  his  habit 
of  utterly  ignoring  barriers  of  class,  education,  and 
even  of  sex,  and  of  valuing  individuals  for  what  they 
were  in  themselves  as  human  beings.  In  his  dealing 
with  others — even  casual  acquaintances,  old  people, 
humble  folk,  children,  servants — the  human  note  was 
always  struck.  Each  was  made  to  feel  that  he  or  she 
counted  for  him  as  an  end  in  himself  or  herself,  and 
not  as  a  means  to  any  other  end.  The  fact  that  his 
mother  was  engaged  in  public  work  of  various  kinds, 
work  in  which  he  always  helped  when  at  home,  brought 
a  great  variety  of  people  into  his  home.  He  was  thrown 
into  contact  with  many  men  whom  he  might  otherwise 
have  missed.  Labour  men,  Welsh-speaking  Free  Church- 
men, Trades  Unionists,  politicians  of  all  the  three  great 
parties  in  the  State.  This  contact  enlarged  his  sympa- 
thies and  provided  him  with  a  training  that  would  have 
been  of  value  to  his  country — that  great  South  Wales 
coalfield  which  is  the  cock-pit  of  democracy — had  he 
been  spared  to  devote  himself  to  a  life  spent  in  her 
service. 

In  politics  he  was  keenly  interested,  and  political 
discussions  were  part  of  the  atmosphere  in  which  he 
was  reared,  partly  due  to  the  fact  that  while  his  Father 
leaned  towards  a  Toryism  of  the  old  school,  his  Mother 
was  what  a  friend  described,  more  in  sorrow  than  in 
wrath,  as  "a  fanatical  Liberal.*' 


MEMOIR  97 

Thus  it  was  that  his  joining  the  Welsh  Gmards  filled 
him  with  profound  satisfaction.  Here  were  his  own 
people,  and  he  felt  that  he  belonged  to  them,  that  their 
God  was  his  God  also.  The  sound  of  the  first  bars  of 
their  National  Air,  "Hen  Wlad  fy  Nhadau"  ("Dear 
Land  of  my  Fathers"),  always  brought  him  leaping  to 
his  feet,  the  sight  of  the  Red  Dragon  on  the  Welsh 
Flag  meant  more  to  him  than  all  the  Union  Jacks  that 
were  ever  woven,  the  National  Eisteddfod  stood  to  him 
as  a  great  religious  Festival.  Of  all  the  sons  of  Wales 
who  have  laid  their  gift  upon  the  altar,  none  has  loved 
her  more  deeply  and  more  passionately  than  he. 

He  joined  the  Welsh  Guards  in  May.  The  regiment 
was  then  stationed  at  Tadworth,  and  from  the  first  day 
down  to  the  very  last  his  life  with  his  regiment  was  one 
of  unmixed  happiness. 

The  writer  is  not  sufficiently  familiar  with  the  atmos- 
phere of  military  life  to  know  whether  all  the  friendli- 
ness, good-comradeship,  and  affection  which  was  show- 
ered upon  her  son  was  such  as  falls  to  the  lot  of  every 
subaltern.  She  only  knows  that  his  delight  in  his 
brother  officers,  his  pride  in  his  men,  his  satisfaction  in 
finding  that  he  "knew  his  job,"  his  sense  of  having  come 
into  a  united  family  who  loved  him  and  whom  he  loved 
— all  this  made  those  last  months  of  his  bodily  life  a 
time  of  complete  happiness.  It  was  enough  to  look  at 
him  to  know  that  this  was  so. 

He  had  inherited  the  brown  hair  and  the  large  gentle 
brown  eyes  of  his  Welsh  great-grandmother;  his  six- 
feet-three-inches  of  straight  young  manhood  seemed  to 


98  CHRISTOPHER 

radiate  joy.  He  was  very  good  to  look  upon  in  his 
various  uniforms,  and  this  too  pleased  him,  as  a  new 
toy  may  please  a  merry  child. 

And  it  was  not  only  life  at  Tadworth  that  he  found 
sweet.  London  was  easy  of  access,  and  London,  when 
one  is  young,  heart-whole,  and  well  provided  with 
funds,  is  a  place  of  great  possibilities.  Dinner  parties 
at  the  Berkeley  followed  by  a  play,  and  sometimes,  re- 
gardless of  food  economy,  by  supper  at  the  Savoy  or  the 
Carlton,  were  of  frequent  occurrence.  The  Guards' 
Club  gave  him  the  rendezvous  he  needed,  and  his 
grandmother's  house  *  under  the  shadow  of  the  Houses 

*  His  grandmother,  Gertrude  Barbara  Rich  Tennant,  only  survived 
him  by  a  few  months,  dying  in  April,  1918,  in  the  ninety-ninth  year 
of  her  age.  She  was  the  eldest  daughter  of  Vice-Admiral  Henry 
T.  B.  Collier,  and  through  her  mother,  Harriet  Nicholas  of  Aston 
Keynes,  traced  her  descent  direct  from  Oliver  Cromwell.  Born  in 
1819,  the  first  twenty-four  years  of  her  life  were  spent  almost  en- 
tirely in  France,  where  as  a  girl  she  became  intimately  acquainted 
with  all  that  was  distinguished  in  the  literary,  artistic  and  social 
world  of  Paris.  Gustave  Flaubert,  Alphonse  Daudet,  Gambetta,  Re- 
nan,  and  many  others  of  note  were  numbered  among  her  friends, 
and  to  the  last  she  retained  a  warm  admiration  for  French  ways 
of  life  and  thought,  the  experiences  of  her  early  days  having,  indeed, 
stamped  her  whole  personality  with  something  of  the  charm  and  dis- 
tinction of  the  great  ladies  of  the  ancien  regime.  Her  remarkable 
beauty  and  quick  intelligence  won  for  her  a  ready  welcome  in  Lon- 
don when  at  the  age  of  24  she  returned  to  England.  Not  long  after- 
wards she  married  Charles  Tennant,  of  Cadoxton  Lodge,  for  many 
years  Member  for  St.  Albans,  a  man  of  outstanding  ability  and 
strength  of  character,  with  strong  democratic  sympathies  and  a  for- 
ward-looking mind.  Of  the  children  of  this  marriage,  Dorothy 
married  H.  M.  Stanley,  the  explorer,  Eveleen  became  the  wife  of 
Frederic  Myers  the  poet  and  psychologist,  and  the  only  son,  Charles 
Coombe  Tennant,  is  the  father  of  the  subject  of  this  Memoir  by  his 
marriage  with  Winifred,  daughter  of  Lieut.  George  Pearce-Serocold, 
R.N.     (5"^^  p.   137.) 

Mrs.  Tennant's  salon  at  her  house  in  Whitehall  was  for  long 
the  meeting  place  of  a  wide  circle  of  interesting  people,  including 


MEMOIR  99 

of  Parliament  was  always  open  to  him.  Certain  of  the 
special  courses  of  instruction  which  he  went  through 
necessitated  residence  in  London,  and  then  his  Father 
or  his  Mother  usually  joined  him,  and  all  the  amuse- 
ments became  doubly  delightful. 

In  July  his  only  London  dance,  one  given  by  a 
brother  officer  to  whom  he  was  especially  attached, 
caught  him  just  before  he  was  sent  abroad.  There 
he  danced  most  of  the  evening  with  a  lovely  and  un- 
known damsel  to  whom  he  had  never  been  introduced, 
and  whose  name  he  never  discovered.  His  attitude  to- 
wards women  was  always  perfect — ^perhaps  the  result 
of  his  having  been  reared  in  a  home  where  belief  in  the 
equality  of  the  sexes,  and  the  equality  of  opportunity 
which  forms  its  natural  corollary,  had  always  been  an 
article  of  faith. 

The  letters  written  during  the  brief  time  he  was  on 

such  great  Victorians  as  John  Bright,  Gladstone,  Ruskin,  Tennyson, 
Huxley,  Herbert  Spencer,  George  Eliot,  Watts,  Burne-Jones,  and 
many  others.  Though  already  78  years  of  age  at  the  time  of  Chris- 
topher's birth,  the  relation  between  them  was  not  so  much  one  of  youth 
and  age  as  of  mutual  affection  and  admiration.  She  was  essentially 
one  of  those  people  who  do  not  date.  Up  to  the  time  of  his  death 
she  retained  her  memory  and  all  her  faculties  unimpaired,  and  took 
a  keen  interest  in  the  doings  of  the  world  at  large.  Age  had  done 
little  to  rob  her  of  the  beauty  of  feature  and  colouring  for  which 
she  had  been  famous;  she  seemed  gifted  with  perennial  youth.  She 
remained  a  vivid  and  arresting  human  being,  full  of  individual 
traits,  and  joining,  as  it  were,  in  her  own  person  two  diflFerent  epochs 
of  European  history — for  she  had  danced  as  a  child  in  Paris  at  the 
Court  of  Charles  X.  (1824-1830),  and  she  lived  to  see  the  three 
great  battles  of  Ypres  in  the  present  war  (1914-1917).  Pre-eminently 
gifted  by  nature  herself,  she  was  quick  to  recognise  and  appreciate 
ability  in  others,  and  her  interest  and  pride  in  Christopher,  to  whom 
she  looked  to  carry  on  a  high  tradition  of  family  history,  was  a 
marked  feature  of  her  later  years. 


100  CHRISTOPHER 

active  service  in  France  and  Flanders  which  are  in- 
cluded in  the  present  volume,  speak  for  themselves.  He 
enjoyed  "the  great  adventure,"  and  before  he  had  seen 
anything  of  the  darker  side  of  war  he  was  lifted  as  by 
an  invisible  hand  into  that  world  which  held  for  him 
the  welcoming  eyes  of  his  sister,  the  little  sister  be- 
neath whose  name  in  his  locked  MS.  book  he  had 
written : 

"Experta  vitae  consltum  spinis  iter, 
Clausit  tenellum  lumen,  et  vidit  Deum."  ^ 

It  was  but  a  little  way  and  into  a  familiar  country 
that  he  passed. 

[Here  ends  his  mother's  Memoir.'] 

^Mr.   Ernest   Myers   kindly   supplies   the   following   translation: 

"Life's  thorny  way  she  for  a  moment  trod, 
Closed  her  sweet  infant  eyes,  and  looked  on  God." 

"Tenellum"  he  adds,  "is  a  diminutive  of  tenerum  (tender),  an& 
perhaps  needs  the  two  words  I  have  used  to  express  it.  I  never  saw 
these  touching  lines  before  and  would  much  like  to  know  where  they 
are  to  be  found.     Probably  they  are  a  Christian  epitaph." 


MEMOIR  101 


SUPPLEMENT  TO  CHAPTER  V 

American  readers  may  be  interested  to  know  that 
the  subject  of  this  book  had  a  strain  of  American  blood 
in  him  and  was  descended  from  a  lady  who  held  a  prom- 
inent place  in  the  social  life  of  South  Carolina  in 
the  early  part  of  the  XVIII  Century.  His  Great-great- 
great  Grandmother  was  Miss  Sarah  Rhett  of  Charles- 
ton, South  Carolina  (born  1725;  died  1808),  who,  in 
1743,  at  the  age  of  eighteen,  married  Admiral  Sir 
Thomas  Frankland,  5th  Bart.,  of  Thirkleby,  York- 
shire, at  Charleston.  She  was  the  daughter  of  John 
Rhett  (son  of  Col.  William  Rhett,  Lt.  Governor  of 
South  Carolina  and  Vice  Admiral  of  the  Navy)  by 
Mary  Trott  his  wife.  Both  her  parents  dying  in  1728, 
within  a  few  days  of  each  other,  of  fever,  when  Sarah 
was  but  three  years  old,  she  was  brought  up  by  her 
Maternal  Grandfather,  Chief  Justice  Nicholas  Trott, 
at  his  home  The  Point,  near  Charleston.  Nicholas 
Trott  had  settled  in  that  town  in  1690,  and  he  exer- 
cised a  dominating  influence  in  the  Colony.  As  judge, 
it  fell  to  his  lot  to  try  the  notorious  Captain  Kidd  and 
his  associates,  who  were  arrested  in  Boston,  Mass.,  in 
July,  1699.  Kidd  had  been  sent  out  as  a  Privateer  in 
1690,  but  was  eventually  arrested  as  a  pirate,  by  Col. 
William  Rhett,  and  sent  to  England,  where  he  was 
hanged  in  1704.  Sarah  Rhett's  paternal  Grandfather, 
Col.  William  Rhett  (born  1666,  died  1722),  also  oc- 


102  CHRISTOPHER 

cupied  an  important  position  in  South  Carolina.  He 
was  a  Lieut.-General  of  Militia,  Commissioner  of  Cus- 
toms for  Carolina,  and  Surveyor  General.  He  was 
also  Vice-Admiral  of  the  Navy,  and  distinguished  him- 
self in  various  Naval  engagements  against  the  Spanish 
and  French.  The  Rhett  family  Vault  is  in  St.  Philip's 
Churchyard,  Charleston,  South  Carolina,  and  is  em- 
bellished with  the  Rhett  coat  of  arms  "Or,  a  cross 
engrailed,  sable." 

Sarah  Rhett  left  America  in  1744,  after  her  mar- 
riage, and  resided  in  England  until  her  death  in  1808, 
at  the  age  of  eighty-two.  A  portrait  of  this  lady, 
painted  when  she  was  about  twenty-three  years  of  age, 
is  now  in  the  possession  of  the  Tennant  family,  whose 
descent  from  her  is  shown  in  the  accompanying  table. 


MEMOIR 


103 


Admiral  Sir  Thomas  Frank-: 
land,  5th  Bart.  M.P.,  b. 
1718;  m.  1743;  d.  1784. 
He  descended  from  Frances, 
4th  daughter  of  Oliver 
Cromwell. 


Charlotte,    7th    daughter,    b.; 
1760;  m.  1778;  d.  1800. 


r 

Harriet,     4th     daughter,     b.: 
1793;  m.  1816;  d.  1850. 


Gertrude  Barbara  Rich,  eld- 
est daughter,  b.  1819;  m. 
1847 ;  d.  1918.  She  was 
7th  in  direct  descent  from 
Oliver  Cromwell. 


Sarah  Rhett  of  Charleston, 
South  Carolina,  b.  1725;  d. 
1808.  Her  great-grand- 
father. Sir  Walter  Rhett,  is 
said  to  have  accompanied 
Charles  II  from  the  Hague 
to  England  (1660). 

Robert  Nicholas,  of  Ashton 
Keynes,  Wilts ;  M.P.,  F.S. 
A. ;  Chairman  of  the  Board 
of  Excise  for  upwards  of 
32  years;  b.  1758;  d.  1826. 

:  Vice-Admiral  Henry  T.  B. 
Collier,  4th  son  of  Admiral 
Sir  George  Collier,  M.P., 
and  younger  brother  of  Ad- 
miral Sir  Francis  Collier; 
C.B.,  K.L.S.,  K.C.H.,  b. 
1791 ;  d.  1872. 

Charles  Tennant,  M.P.,  D.L., 
co:  Glam.,  of  Cadoxton 
Lodge,  Neath,  South 
Wales,  b.  1796;  d.  1873. 


Charles      Coombe      Tennant,  =  Winifred,  daughter  of  Lieut. 


J.P.    of    Cadoxton    Lodge, 
only  son;  m.  1895. 


George 
R.N. 


Pearce-Serocold, 


George  Christopher  Serocold  Tennant,  eldest  son.  Second 
Lieutenant  1st  Battalion  Welsh  Guards,  b.  1897.  Killed 
in  action  in  Flanders  1917. 


CHAPTER  VI 

AUTOBIOGRAPHICAL    FRAGMENT 

".  .  .  Even  then  I  felt 
Gleams  like  the  flashing  of  a  shield : — the  Earth 
And  common  face  of  Nature  spake  to  me 
Rememberable  things." 

Wordsworth,  Prelude,  II. 

In  October  1911,  on  Christopher's  fourteenth  birth- 
day, his  mother  gave  him  a  book  for  manuscript,  bound 
in  red  leather  and  fitted  with  a  lock  and  key.  The  con- 
tents of  this  book  remained  unknown  to  her  until  she 
read  them  in  September,  1917,  after  her  son's  death. 
Here  follow  some  extracts : — 

Tadworth  Camp^  July^  1917- 
This  is  not  an  attempt  at  autobiography — it  is 
merely  an  attempt  to  set  down  a  few  incidents  of  my 
past  life,  an  attempt  which,  writing  as  I  do  at  the 
age  of  19  years  9  months,  must  necessarily  be  incom- 
plete and  lacking  in  detail.  But  whether  I  survive 
this  war  or  not  it  may  be  of  interest  both  for  myself 
and  for  those  dear  to  me  to  have  some  record  of  things 
which  may  not  linger  in  my  memory.  I  shall  write 
from  time  to  time  as  the  spirit  moves  me,  not  striving 
for  flow  of  expression,  but  setting  down  simply  what 
comes  into  my  mind — ^here  as  I  sit  at  Tadworth  Camp 

104 


AUTOBIOGRAPHICAL  FRAGMENT   105 

in  my  tent,  with  the  sun  streaming  in  upon  me  and 
the  voices  of  my  fellow  officers  sounding  in  the  distance. 

Like  the  lives  of  most  other  men,  mine  falls  into 
periods :  Before  school — Private  school — Public  school 
— Sandhurst — the  Army.  I  was  born  at  Cadoxton  on 
October  loth,  1897.  My  childhood  was,  I  think,  on  the 
whole  very  happy,  chiefly  because  of  the  love  that  has 
existed  between  my  parents  (harsh  word!)  and  my- 
self— yes,  ever  since  I  can  remember.  I  know  now 
that  I  was  born  into  the  world  almost  inanimate — 
and  that  the  doctor  restored  life  by  judicious  flapping 
with  wet  towels.  My  earliest  recollection  is  of  watch- 
ing a  snow  storm  at  the  age  of  about  4,  standing  on 
a  chair  in  my  nursery  at  Cadoxton  with  old  Nurse 
beside  me.  Then,  as  I  got  a  little  older,  my  Father 
and  Mother  went  off  to  Algiers,  and  old  Nurse  wrote 
daily  that  "Master  Christopher  eats  well,  sleeps  well, 
and  takes  his  food"  I 

Cadoxton  was  a  house  full  of  mystery  to  me,  and 
though  never  afraid  I  was  visited  on  two  occasions  by 
strange  fancies — so  vividly  did  they  impress  them- 
selves on  my  mind  that  they  remain  clear  till  this  day. 
The  psychology  of  them  must  be  interesting.  The  first 
happened  when  I  was  about  5  years  old — the  second 
a  few  days  afterwards.  I  was  lying  in  my  bed  in  my 
nursery,  and  old  Nurse  was  sitting  in  a  chair  by  the 
fire.  There  was  also  a  lamp  in  the  room.  I  had  only 
just  been  put  in  bed  when  I  had  the  feeling  of  being 
watched,  and  looking  towards  the  door  I  was  under 
the  impression  that  it  opened  and  shut  noiselessly. 
(The  sequence  of  this  is  interesting.)  Then  I  seemed 
to  distinguish  above  the  screen  in  the  comer,  a  screen 


106  CHRISTOPHER 

which  partially  surrounded  the  door  but  did  not  totally 
conceal  the  top  of  it  from  my  bed — above  the  screen, 
I  say,  appeared  a  forehead  and  eyes — the  top  part  of 
a  face,  in  fact.  The  face  was  black,  and  two  black 
eyes  watched  me.  My  instinct  was  to  duck  under  the 
clothes,  but  with  immense  effort  and  prompted  by 
curiosity  I  resisted  the  instinct.  The  next  thing  I  saw 
was  a  long  black  neck  shooting  out  over  the  top  of  the 
screen,  with  a  black  shapeless  face  at  the  end  of  it. 
Then  I  did  duck  under  the  clothes.  This  by  itself 
might  have  been  a  bad  dream,  or  a  trick  of  the  shadows, 
but  the  curious  thing  is  that  a  few  days — or  it  may 
have  been  weeks — afterwards  the  following  occurred. 
It  was  the  afternoon,  between  lunch  and  tea,  and  I  was 
sitting  on  the  ground  with  old  Nurse  sewing  beside 
me.  She  had  given  me  a  large  box  of  old  Christmas 
cards  to  play  with,  and  I  had  arranged  them,  standing 
them  up,  all  over  the  nursery  floor — no  one  could  have 
walked  from  the  door  to  the  window  without  upsetting 
some  of  them.  Suddenly,  without  any  warning,  I  saw 
coming  from  the  door  a  figure,  clothed  in  black  close- 
fitting  draperies,  with  the  same  black  face  I  had  seen 
before,  though  the  hands  were  whiter.  The  figure 
came  towards  me  with  a  trotting  gait,  walked  through 
all  the  Christmas  cards  without  upsetting  any,  till  it 
reached  the  window;  then  it  turned  and  trotted  back, 
disappearing  as  it  got  towards  the  door.  The  door 
never  opened,  and  old  Nurse  seemed,  as  far  as  I  can 
remember,  to  notice  nothing  unusual.  My  feelings 
were  entirely  those  of  interest  and  curiosity  at  being 
thus  able  to  identify  this  visitant  with  the  one  of  a 
former  occasion — and  prove  to  myself  that  it  had  been 


CHRISTOPHER    WITH    HIS   DOG    BOXER. 
OCTOBER,    1900,    AOED   3    YEARS. 


AUTOBIOGRAPHICAL  FRAGMENT    107 

no  dream.  I  felt  not  a  shadow  of  fear,  but  somehow 
I  have  never  spoken  of  these  things. 

So  much  for  my  early  recollections  of  Cadoxton, 
where  I  used  to  spend  six  months  of  the  year.  The 
other  six  were  spent  in  London  at  5,  Sloane  Court,  in 
Lower  Sloane  Street.  I  can  remember  very  early  days 
there — I  can  still  conjure  up  the  peculiar  smell  of  the 
cupboards — those  white  cupboards  in  the  nursery,  the 
Red  Room  where  Deedooge  ^  used  to  read  to  me. 
Mother's  room  with  Japanese  prints,  and  the  dining- 
room  from  which  I  watched  the  naturalist's  shop  be- 
low, and  the  sentry  in  his  red  coat  and  bearskin  out- 
side Chelsea  Barracks.  These  things  seem  very  far 
away,  as  in  a  dream.  One  morning — I  was  very  young 
— my  Mother  called  me  to  her  room,  and  said,  "Carry 
this  thought  in  your  mind  to-day — 'God  is  love.'  "  I 
have  always  remembered  that. 

Many  incidents  I  have  forgotten.  Innumerable 
governesses  I  remember  as  concrete  things,  but  the  gen- 
eral impression  of  my  first  years  in  London  left  me  with 
memories  of  sunlit  days  in  the  Chelsea  Gardens,  and 
a  sweet  glamour  of  childhood  associated  with  the  scent 
of  white  hawthorn  and  the  songs  of  thrushes  in  the 
trees. 

It  is  strange,  what  I  have  called  the  glamour  of 
childhood — those  gardens  that  seemed  to  me  full  of  a 
celestial  brightness — the  essential  happiness  and  joy  of 
my  life.  Delicious  shady  nooks  were  there  which 
seemed  like  a  paradise  to  me,  full  of  the  sound  of 
cooing  doves  and  the  smell  of  spring,  delicious  scents 

*  A  name   given  by  Christopher   as   a  small   child   to  his  Father, 
which  became  a  permanent  addition  to  the  family  vocabulary. 


108  CHRISTOPHER 

floating  from  the  flower  gardens,  the  whole  world  trans- 
figured with  celestial  light.  I  feel  intensely  that  that 
which  Wordsworth  sets  down  in  his  "Ode  on  the  Inti- 
mations of  Immortality"  has  been  my  actual  experi- 
ence. I  knew  those  clouds  of  glory  in  my  childhood,  I 
felt  them  fading  with  boyhood,  and  now  I  feel  those 
fancies  "pass  away  and  fade  into  the  light  of  com- 
mon day."  Yet  there  are  certain  things  which  bring 
them  back  to  me,  and  recall  that  glamour  and  splen- 
dour of  the  past — sunset,  and  the  song  of  birds,  and 
Thompson's  "Ode  to  the  Setting  Sun" — such  things 
bring  back  to  me  what  now  seems  "desolate  sweetness 
far  and  far  away."  How  my  childhood  invested  these 
places  with  a  divine  glory,  and  how  small  and  sordid 
they  now  seem,  returning  after  an  interval  of  some 
years!    Strange  indeed  I 

London,  too,  impressed  me.  How  vast,  how  full  of 
people  it  seemed!  I  remember  so  well  going  to  bed 
by  candlelight,  and  waking  in  the  morning  with  the 
light  streaming  through  the  windows.  I  remember  the 
curious  effect  on  the  ceiling  of  cabs  and  lighted  vehi- 
cles passing  at  night,  arms  of  light  shooting  across  the 
ceiling  from  the  top  of  the  window  and  travelling 
slowly  across  it.  I  remember  parties,  too — with  Peter  ^ 
and  others — and  I  remember  my  Mother,  a  vision  of 
beauty  in  her  low  dress,  with  pearl  necklaces  and  dia- 
mond tiara — and  my  Father,  who  used  to  give  me  a 
lighted  candle  to  blow  out,  to  comfort  me,  and  used 
to  sit  beside  my  bed  when  I  could  not  go  to  sleep. 
Vaguely,  too,  comes  back  the  memory  of  measles,  and 

^  Peter    Harris,    afterwards    at    Sandhurst   with   him,    and   now    a 
Second-Lieutenant  in  the  Coldstream  Guards. 


AUTOBIOGRAPHICAL  FRAGMENT   109 

of  how  ill  I  was,  and  how  I  could  hardly  walk  when 
I  first  got  up  afterwards. 

Then  came  our  expedition  to  France.  How  I  loved 
France — the  Riviera,  with  its  blue  sky,  and  beds  of 
violets,  and  mimosa  trees !  We  travelled  right  through 
to  Marseilles,  and  I  slept  in  the  train  and  woke  up  at 
Lyons.  We  went  to  Hyeres.  There  was  a  lovely  gar- 
den there,  belonging  to  the  Abbe,  full  of  flowers  and 
bees. 

INTERPOLATION 

[Christopher's  acquaintance  with  this  garden  and  with  the 
Abbe  Marquand — who  became  so  good  a  friend  to  him — oc- 
curred in  the  following  way. 

Stevenson's  "Child's  Garden  of  Verse"  had  been  a  familiar 
companion  from  very  early  days,  and  his  usual  desire  to  know 
something  of  the  people  who  had  written  the  things  he  cared 
for  led  his  Mother  to  read  the  Life  of  R.  L.  S.  and  the  two 
volumes  of  his  Letters  edited  by  Sidney  Colvin. 

When  the  family  party  reached  Hyeres  their  first  thought 
was  of  the  villa  in  which  R.  L.  S.  had  lived  from  the  spring 
of  1883  for  the  greater  part  of  sixteen  months.  The  "Child's 
Garden  of  Verse,"  "The  Silverado  Squatters,"  and  "Black 
Arrow"  belong  to  this  period.  Writing  in  October,  1883,  R. 
L.  S.  describes  his  house  thus : — "My  address  is  still  the  same, 
and  I  live  in  a  most  sweet  corner  of  the  universe ;  sea  and  fine 
hills  before  me,  and  a  rich  variegated  plain ;  at  my  back  a 
craggy  hill,  loaded  with  vast  feudal  ruins.  I  am  very  quiet; 
a  person  passing  by  my  door  half  startles  me ;  but  I  enjoy 
the  most  aromatic  airs,  and  at  night  the  most  wonderful  view 
into  a  moonlit  garden.  By  day  this  garden  fades  into  nothing, 
overpowered  by  its  surroundings  and  the  luminous  distance ; 
but  at  night,  and  when  the  moon  is  out,  that  garden,  the  arbour, 
the  flight  of  stairs  that  mount  the  artificial  hillock,  the  plumed 
blue  gum-trees  that  hang  trembling,  become  the  very  skirts  of 
Paradise.  Angels  I  know  frequent  it;  and  it  thrills  all  night 
with  the  flutes  of  silence." 


110  CHRISTOPHER 

It  was  in  this  same  garden  that  the  problem  of  the  disposal 
of  an  army  of  snails  collected  by  R.  L.  S.  arose :  "Our  lovely 
garden  is  a  prey  to  snails;  I  have  gathered  about  a  bushel, 
which,  not  having  the  heart  to  slay,  I  steal  forth  withal  and 
deposit  near  my  neighbour's  garden  wall.  As  a  case  of  casuis- 
try, this  presents  many  points  of  interest.  I  loathe  the  snails, 
but  from  loathing  to  actual  butchery,  trucidation  of  multi- 
tudes, there  is  a  step  that  I  hesitate  to  take.  What  then  to 
do  with  them?  My  neighbour's  vineyard,  pardy!  It  is  a 
rich  villa  pleasure  garden,  of  course;  if  it  were  a  peasant's 
patch  the  snails  I  suppose  would  have  to  perish." 

This  story  always  amused  Christopher,  and  to  enter  and 
explore  this  garden  was  one  of  the  fixed  determinations  of 
his  days  at  Hyeres.  His  Mother  thought  it  wise  to  go  and 
spy  out  the  land  alone  as  a  preliminary  step.  The  following 
is  taken  from  a  contemporary  note  made  by  her  at  Hyeres  in 
March  1905: — 

"It  was  not  without  emotion  that  I  first  beheld  the  little 
house.  Set  back  behind  a  wooden  paling,  the  white-washed 
chalet  with  its  overhanging  eaves  lay  like  a  white  bird  against 
the  background  of  verdure.  On  the  ground  were  three  long 
French  windows  opening  on  to  a  little  tile-paved  path  from 
whence  on  either  side  a  flight  of  steps  led  up  into  the  garden. 
Above,  the  wooden  balcony  ran  round  three  sides  of  the  house, 
the  windows  of  the  upper  floor  opening  out  upon  it.  The 
whole  impression  was  one  of  a  harmony  of  white  and  brown; 
white  walls  making  a  setting  for  the  note  of  brown  in  the 
carved  woodwork  of  balcony,  eave,  and  window  frame. 

"At  the  back  rose  the  garden,  bright  with  flowering  shrubs; 
and  far  above,  the  half-ruined  tower  of  the  old  chateau  kept 
watch  like  a  forgotten  sentinel. 

"Not  without  some  misgiving  I  crossed  the  road  and  pulled 
the  bell  that  hung  just  outside  the  grille.  The  sound  of  foot- 
steps came  from  the  garden  path,  and  in  another  moment  I 
found  myself  face  to  face  with  the  occupant  of  La  Solitude.''- 

"I  do  not  know  exactly  whom  I  had  expected  to  find  living 
in  Stevenson's  house,  but  it  was  certainly  not  the  priest  who, 
in  cassock  and  biretta,  now  opened  the  door  and  let  me  in.  He 
was  a  man  verging  on  middle  age,  dark,  of  medium  height, 

*  The  name  of  the  villa. 


AUTOBIOGRAPHICAL  FRAGMENT   111 

with  intelligent  and  kindly  eyes  that  reassured  me  at  once. 
He  led  me  through  an  open  window  on  the  ground  floor  into 
a  tiny  study,  set  me  at  my  ease  in  a  few  moments,  and  was 
soon  asking  a  hundred  eager  questions  about  Stevenson,  of 
whom  he  had  heard  as  'ce  grand  ecrivain  etranger  qui  habitait 
ici  autrefois.'  My  interview  with  M.  I'Abbe  was  a  most  happy 
one.  It  seemed  strange  to  be  speaking  of  R.  L.  S.  in  what  had 
probably  been  his  own  writing-room.  I  tried  to  give  some 
incomplete  picture  of  the  compelling  charm  of  his  character, 
of  his  joyous  blitheness  of  spirit,  persisting  even  in  the  darkest 
days,  of  his  intuitive  sympathy  with  all  forms  of  life,  and  of 
the  deep  and  abiding  eflEect  he  has  had  upon  many  who  never 
knew  him. 

"Then  M.  I'Abbe  rose  and  led  me  from  room  to  room.  The 
real  entrance  is  from  the  back  of  the  chalet  and  leads  directly 
on  to  the  upper  story,  from  whence  a  miniature  staircase 
descends  to  the  ground  floor.  On  the  latter  are  two  sitting- 
rooms,  very  diminutive  and  very  cheerful,  the  kitchen  and 
pantry.  Above  are  four  bedrooms  opening  on  to  the  balcony. 
Everywhere  I  saw  evidence  of  the  most  refined  and  cultivated 
taste;  a  note  of  ordered  simplicity  prevailed;  the  walls  were 
coloured  in  delicate  neutral  shades,  and  formed  an  admirable 
background  for  some  fine  pieces  of  ancient  walnut  furniture 
and  old  oil  paintings  in  heavily  carved  frames.  The  little 
dwelling  was  very  flower-like,  very  reposeful — full  of  sweet- 
ness and  light.  We  passed  out  into  the  garden  and  along  the 
winding  paths  edged  with  narcissus,  violets,  and  roses,  with 
aloes  and  f resias :  flowers  everywhere,  such  as  one  only  sees  in 
a  garden  where  none  are  ever  picked  and  each  plant  may  bear 
its  full  load  of  blossom  undisturbed.  Everywhere,  too,  birds, 
as  in  the  days  more  than  twenty  years  ago  when  R.  L.  S.  wrote 
of  the  'fair  wood  music  in  this  solitude  of  ours.'  In  one  corner 
stood  a  gnarled  old  olive  tree  half  buried  in  falling  honey- 
suckle; the  terrace  that  runs  along  the  garden's  upmost  slope 
is  bordered  by  fine  aloes ;  and  a  mimosa  in  full  bloom — a 
veritable  firework  of  falling  gold — ^brought  a  vivid  note  of 
colour  into  the  scene. 

"A  flight  of  stone  steps  leads  up  to  what  was  once  a  studio, 
now  transformed  into  an  oratory  in  which  M.  I'Abbe  daily 
celebrates  Mass.  The  dim  light  and  perfect  silence  of  the 
little  chapel  had  something  of  mystery  and  peace  as  I  passed 


112  CHRISTOPHER 

into  it  from  the  bird-haunted  sun-bathed  garden.  Above  the 
altar  rose  a  figure  of  the  Saviour,  around  it  great  bowls  of 
mimosa  were  grouped,  filling  the  air  with  a  subtle  perfume; 
on  either  side  stood  a  smaller  statue,  to  the  right  the  Virgin 
Mother,  to  the  left  Joseph  with  his  carpenter's  tools.  The 
consecration  of  many  prayers  brooded  like  a  benediction  above 
the  spot.  .  .  .  This  was  the  beginning  of  a  close  friendship 
between  us,  for  nothing  could  have  exceeded  the  exquisite  hos- 
pitality of  the  Abbe  to  me,  a  stranger  not  only  in  race  but  also 
in  creed.  It  was  the  story  of  Crocket  and  the  Bishop  of  El  Seo 
over  again,  told  with  such  subtle  charm  in  *A  Wayfarer  in 
Spain.'  I  later  knew  that  my  Abbe  of  La  Solitude  belonged 
also  to  that  never  very  numerous  company  of  human  souls 
that  stand  outside  and  above  every  accident  of  race  and  creed 
and  century ;  that  link  us  with  the  great  Illuminati  of  the  past, 
and  renew,  in  hearts  grown  weary  with  the  complexity  of  life, 
the  glow  of  faith  in  Man's  destiny." 

Thus  it  came  about  that  Christopher  was  made  free 
of  the  lovely  garden  of  his  dreams  during  several  happy 
weeks.  A  letter  on  page  289  shows  how  close  the  link 
between  the  boy  and  his  French  friend  remained.] 

Autobiographical  Fragment  Resumed. 

Then  came  The  Darling.  I  will  not  speak  much  of 
her.  She  was  a  very  living  person  to  me,  and  I  still 
feel  her  a  living  influence  in  my  life.  God  bless  her. 
Some  day  we  shall  meet  and  look  into  each  other's  eyes, 
for  the  love  between  us  is  great.  I  remember  her  so 
well.  She  was  so  beautiful  and  so  unique,  and  meant 
so  much  to  me. 

In  1907  I  went  to  West  Downs,  a  preparatory  school 
near  Winchester.  I  was  very  unhappy  and  very  home- 
sick at  first,  but  it  all  helped  me  to  gain  that  savoir 
faire  that  enables  one  to  get  on  with  men.     That  is 


AUTOBIOGRAPHICAL  FRAGMENT    113 

the  most  that  can  be  said  of  it.  At  first  I  was  entirely 
out  of  my  element.  The  boys  just  above  me  bullied 
me  and  the  others  of  my  lot.  I  found  my  feet  as  I 
got  on,  and  liked  the  place  eventually.  It  was  a  clean 
school,  though  full  of  intrigues  and  petty  spite,  as 
schools  are.  The  masters  were  very  nice  men ;  Helbert 
was  a  good  teacher,  and  made  the  school  run  well,  and 
made  his  boys  as  happy  as  they  might  be  under  such 
circumstances. 

Personally  I  have  always  been  a  lover  of  freedom, 
and  have  resented  the  control  of  all  my  actions  by 
vengeful  deities.  That  control  is  necessary,  I  know, 
but  it  can  be  done  with  wise  love,  and  it  can  be  done 
in  a  spirit  of  smug  prudery;  and  it  is  very  often  done 
in  the  latter.  Perhaps  I  misjudged  authority  and 
thought  harshly  of  it  in  those  days,  but  moments  of 
freedom  and  leisure  made  up  to  a  large  extent  for  the 
constant  supervision.  There  is  a  certain  kind  of  old- 
maidishness  which  makes  my  blood  boil,  and  I  have 
always  thought  it  latent  in  most  schoolmasters.  How- 
ever, I  am  now  inclined  to  think  they  are  more  like 
ordinary  people,  and  assume  a  role  which  they  imagine 
to  be  suitable  for  dealing  with  the  young. 

I  thought  West  Downs  at  first  what  I  should  call 
"hard,"  perhaps  owing  to  the  absence  of  carpets  and 
other  amenities  of  civilised  life.  The  place  was  bare, 
the  people's  minds  were  bare.  I  noted  at  the  time,  with- 
out being  able  to  express  it,  a  certain  mental  inelasticity 
and  absence  of  imagination  in  the  people  there.  I  was 
intensely  romantic  by  nature  then,  and  found  no  cor- 
responding chord  in  my  superiors.  They  were  nice, 
but  unsympathetic. 


114  CHRISTOPHER 

Apart  from  this  criticism,  I  had  a  pleasant  time  the 
last  few  years  at  West  Downs — at  least,  I  sometimes 
feel  that  it  was  rather  a  grey  stretch  of  vague  indefi- 
niteness,  with  pleasant  moments  and  incidents  dotted 
here  and  there.  But  I  do  not  think  one  minds  so  much 
at  the  time,  as  on  looking  back  at  it  afterwards. 
[Here  the  fragment  of  autobiography  breaks  off.] 


The  locked  MS.  book  (called  by  Christopher  his 
Red  Book)  also  contains  a  small  number  of  other 
entrioi',  made  on  different  dates  prior  to  that  of  the 
above  Autobiographical  Fragment.  Of  these  the  fol- 
lowing only  are  quoted  as  showing  their  general  char- 
acter : — 

"Dearly  beloved  and  longed  for,  my  joy  and  crown,  so  stand 
fast  in  the  Lord,  my  dearly  beloved."  * 

TABLET   IN    KESWICK   CHURCH.* 

In  Memory  of  Frederic  William  Henry  Myers. 
Eldest  son  of  the  Rev.  Frederic  Myers. 
Born  at  Keswick  February  8th,  1843. 
Departed  this  life  at  Rome,  January,   1901. 

"He  asked  life  of  Thee,  and  Thou  gavest  him  a  long  life, 
even  for  ever  and  ever." 

May  isty  1916. 
"To  God  again  the  enfranchised  soul  must  tend, 
He  is  her  home;  her  Author  is  her  End. 
Hers  is  no  death;  when  earthly  eyes  grow  dim 
Starlike  she  soars,  and  Godlike  melts  in  Him."  ' 

F.  W.  H.  M. 

*  From  Philippians  iv.  1.  These  words  are  on  a  brass  tablet  placed 
below  a  Delia  Robbia  bas-relief  in  the  church  of  St.  Cattwg,  Cadox- 
ton-j  uxta-Neath,  in  memory  of  his  sister. 

*  Visited   by   Christopher    in    September,    1912. 

•a  translation  of  Georgics  iv.,  223,  by  Frederic  Myers.  See  the 
Essay  on  Virgil,  "Classical  Essays,"  p.   174. 


AUTOBIOGRAPHICAL  FRAGMENT    115 

Oi5  yH  in,  irapdeviKai  fieXiy&pves  tuepSiJxaPOi, 
yvla  <j>kpr]v  bvvaTai.    jSAXc  brf  fi&Xe  KrjpvXos  etrjv, 
6aT^  cTTi  KUjuaros  avdos  S-fx'  &\Kv6v€(T<n  iroTrJTaL 
XHjSe^s  ^Top  txoiVy  a\nr6p4)vpo^  elapos  6pvi,s.^ 

*"No  longer,  sweetly  murmuring  loving-voiced  maidens,  my  limbs 
can  support  me.  Would,  ah!  would  that  I  were  a  Kingfisher  who 
along  the  flower  of  the  wave  flits  with  the  halcyons,  his  heart  at 
ease,  the  sea-blue  bird  of  Spring." 

Alcman. 


CHAPTER  VII 

WEST    DOWNS 

"Thus  encircled  by  the  mystery  of  Existence;  under  the 
deep  heavenly  Firmament;  waited  on  by  the  four  golden  Sea- 
sons, with  their  vicissitudes  of  contribution  .  .  .  did  the  Child 
sit  and  learn.  .  .  . 

"Nevertheless  I  were  but  a  vain  dreamer  to  say  that  even 
then  my  felicity  was  perfect.  I  had,  once  for  all,  come  down 
from  Heaven  into  the  Earth.  Among  the  rainbow  colours  that 
glowed  on  my  horizon,  lay  even  in  childhood  a  dark  ring  of 
Care,  as  yet  no  thicker  than  a  thread,  and  often  quite  over- 
shone.  ...  It  was  the  ring  of  Necessity  whereby  we  are  all 
begirt;  happy  he  for  whom  a  kind  heavenly  Sun  brightens  it 
into  a  ring  of  Duty,  and  plays  round  it  with  beautiful  pris- 
matic diffractions;  yet  ever,  as  basis  and  bourne  of  our  whole 
being,  it  is  there."  Carlyle,  "Sartor  Resartus." 

In  May,  1907,  Christopher's  school  life  began.  He 
went  in  that  month  to  West  Downs  (Mr.  Helbert),  a 
preparatory  school,  which  lies  high  above  the  ancient 
city  of  Winchester  and  looks  out  over  a  wide  stretch 
of  rolling  country.  Here  he  was  to  remain  for  the  next 
four  years.  At  the  time  there  were  between  fifty  and 
sixty  boys  in  the  school.  I  am  indebted  to  his  Parents 
for  these  and  all  other  details. 

West  Downs,  May,  1907. 
My  dear  Mum, — ^I  drink  tea  for  tea  and  tea  for 
breakfast!    It  is  difficult  to  get  time  to  write  to  you, 

116 


WEST  DOWNS  117 

because  there  is  such  a  lot  of  changing  for  cricket,  and 
then  I  have  to  go  out,  and  lessons,  etc. 

The  Matron  puts  my  bath  ready.  There  are  many 
boys  younger  than  me  here.  I  like  my  Pater^  very 
well.  My  Pater  just  arrived  when  I  did,  so  he  does 
not  know  much  himself.  We  go  to  chapel  every  morn- 
ing and  evening.  .  .  .  The  lark  woke  me  up  this 
morning,  and  is  still  singing  beautifully.  Well,  dear 
Mum,  please  give  my  love  to  Daphne. 

God  bless  you.     I  am  your  loving  First-born  son, 

Christopher  Tennant. 

P.S. — When  you  come  for  the  Sports  I  shall  have 
to  call  you  "Mother." 

October,  1907. 

There  is  a  probable  match  on  the  20th  of  this  month 
against  a  school  near  here  called  Winton  House.  The 
watch  you  sent  me  keeps  perfect  time.  In  the  morn- 
ings, when  we  are  dressed,  we  learn  one  verse.  I  have 
learned  the  46th  Psalm,  and  am  learning  the  30th.  We 
say  our  verses  to  the  prefects. 

It  is  a  very  cold  day  to-day,  and  raining  hard.  The 
wind  is  howling  through  the  trees,  and  I  cannot  de- 
scribe its  force.  ...  I  hope  that  "Daphne  is  quite  well 
and  sleeps  well  and  enjoys  her  food."  ^  I  am  fourth  in 
my  class,  and  hope  to  get  on  well  in  this  school.  The 
German  servant  Carl  has  gone  yesterday  (to  be  a  sol- 
dier) back  to  Germany. 

*  An  elder  boy  charged  with  the  duty  of  showing  a  new  boy  the 
ropes  and  generally  befriending  him. 

^The  formula  used  by  his  old  nurse  to  signify  "All  well,"  when 
writing  to,  his  parents  when  they  were  abroad.    See  p.  105. 


118  CHRISTOPHER 

Another  of  my  teeth  has  come  out,  which  I  en- 
close. ...  I  give  most  hearty  love  to  you,  Deedooge, 
and  Daphne. 

October^  1908. 

I  am  getting  on  well  with  my  work.  I  think  of  The 
Darling,^  and  know  she  is  helping  me.  It  was  very 
cold  this  morning,  although  the  sun  was  shining.  I 
hope  you  like  Florence.  I  am  doing  well  in  Greek. 
The  boy  whom  I  like  best  in  the  school  is  Brown- 
ing^ ...  all  the  boys  in  the  school  are  playing  with 
"Diabolo." 

June  l^tki  1909. 

Dear  Mum, — ^To-day  is  Mr.  Helbert's  birthday, 
and  we  have  just  had  an  enormous  cake,  with  1909 
B.C.,  which  stands  for  birthday  cake;  it  was  in  the 
middle  of  the  hall  upon  a  stand.  We  all  had  two  big 
helpings,  and  even  afterwards  some  small  boys  came 
and  looked  longingly  at  it.  We  all  tried  to  guess  how 
old  Mr.  Helbert  was,  but  he  would  not  tell  us  then. 
I  myself  think  he  is  about  40  or  41.  I  did  very  well 
in  the  half-term  exams.,  and  was  second,  but  in  every- 
thing, exams,  and  work  during  the  term,  I  was 
TOP !  .  .  . 

West  Downs^  June  20/A,  1909. 

Dear  Mum, — On  Friday  the  Fire  Brigade  came  up, 
and  the  St.  Cross  dormitory  was  cut  off,  and  the  fire 
was  supposed  to  have  burned  the  stairs.  They  had  a 
huge  ladder  and  the  firemen  climbed  up  it  and  rescued 
us.    The  ladder  was  two  long  ladders  joined  together, 

*  His  only  sister,  Daphne,  who  had  died  in  the  previous  July. 
'  Now  a  Captain  in  the  Grenadier  Guards.    Croix  de  Guerre,  1917, 
and  D.S.O. 


WEST  DOWNS  119 

and  one  man  turned  a  handle  round  and  round  and  it 
gradually  went  up.  Then  the  real  engine  itself  came 
up,  and  sparks  flew  in  every  direction,  and  they  squirted 
water  on  to  the  house.    I  enjoyed  it  so  much. 

Yesterday  we  had  a  Paters'  match.  We  made  82, 
and  then  they  went  in  and  made  67.  We  went  in 
again  and  made  66  for  no  wickets.  So  we  beat  them, 
and  afterwards  went  down  the  bank  and  had  a  pic- 
nic; we  threw  buns  and  things  at  each  other,  but  to- 
wards the  end  it  began  to  rain,  and  we  rushed  about 
with  hot  tea  under  a  sort  of  awning.  I  don't  know  what 
my  prize  is  going  to  be,  but  I  think  it  will  be  very 
grand.^  Winchester  and  Reading  were  going  in  for 
it,  but  I  was  first  of  them  all.  I  sit  top  of  my  class, 
and  am  getting  on  very  well.  The  summer  holidays 
are  very  near  now.    Much  love. 

September  igtk,  1909. 

I  am  getting  on  quite  well.  We  are  now  playing 
footer,  and  I  play  left  half.  Mr.  Rose  gave  a  lecture 
last  night  upon  aeroplanes,  and  I  am  sending  you  some 
notes  that  I  made  at  the  time.  There  are  two  "sec- 
tions" of  the  top  class,  and  I  am  head  of  the  second. 
I  am  also  appointed  by  Mr.  Helbert  to  look  after  the 
whole  top  dormitory  when  (as  often  happens)  the 
prefects  are  out  of  the  room.    I  like  it  very  much. 

God  bless  The  Darling.^  I  am  sure  Fred  *  and  she 
are  often  with  us  both. 

*The  first  prize  in  a  competition  organised  by  the  "Alliance  Fran- 
qaise": — Gallia,  Comite  de  Reading,  XV.  Concours  de  Frangais,  1909. 
Premier  Prix  en  Lecture  et  Recitation.  19  Juin,  1909.  Christopher 
could  speak  both  French  and  German  readily,  through  his  home 
training. 

"Daphne   (obiit  July  2i8t,  1908). 

'F.  W.  H.  Myers  (obiit  January  17th,  1901). 


120  CHRISTOPHER 

October  '^'^st^  1909. 

Dear  Mum, — I  am  writing  to  wish  you  very  many 
happy  returns  of  your  birthday.  Well,  I  hope  you  will 
have  a  very  happy  birthday,  Mum,  with  the  dear  Dar- 
ling, God  bless  her,  watching  over  you  and  with  you. 

The  time  is  drawing  near  when  you  give  away  our 
prizes  at  the  Cadoxton  schools.  Have  you  got  another 
of  Oliver  Lodge's  books  to  read  together  in  the  holi- 
days'? 

I  have  determined  to  try  and  support  the  Prefects, 
but  I  don't  seem  to  quite  know  how  to  do  it*?  but 
there,  I  will  do  my  best  and  cannot  do  more.  Well, 
dear  Mum,  again  wishing  you  a  most  exquisite  and 
JOYFUL  BIRTHDAY,  and  Warm  and  sunny.  Let  it  be 
"the  day  that  the  Lord  hath  made."  Your  loving  and 
adoring  son, 

Christopher. 

November  21st,  1909. 
Dear  Mum, — ^AU  is  well  here.  This  morning  Mr. 
Helbert  gave  us  a  New  Testament  all  in  Greek;  at 
first  I  could  not  find  anything  at  all,  but  at  last  I 
recognised  some  words.  I  received  during  the  match  an 
extremely  mysterious  and  interesting-looking  telegram ! 
I  could  not  open  it  in  the  middle  of  the  match,  which 
I  must  tell  you  we  won  (score:  W.  D.  3,  other  S.  2), 
but  I  opened  it  at  the  end !  I  could  hardly  speak  with 
joy ! !  I  When  I  read  the  contents !  So  dear  Alexander 
has  arrived!^  Well,  I  have  written  to  him  to  tell  him 
how  much  I  love  him.  We  hiave  great  things  to  thank 
God  and  The  Darling  for.    Words  cannot  express  my 

*  His  brother,   born   November  zoth,    1909. 


WEST  DOWNS  121 

excitement,  but  I  shall  soon  see  Alexander;  may  he 
be  indeed  Alexander  "the  Great"! 

All  is  well  here.     There  is  no  news.     Much  love. 
— Your  adoring  Gruffer. 

January  2gth^  1910. 
All  is  well.  The  Doctor  says  my  knee  is  decidedly 
on  the  mend,  and  I  think  it  is  nearly  well  now.  .  .  . 
Several  of  the  Masters  come  to  see  me  regularly,  and 
Mr.  Helbert  comes  over  and  reads  to  me  every  day, 
which  I  think  very  kind  of  him.  The  real  pleasures  I 
enjoy  here  are  the  evenings,  when  I  recall  fragments 
of  poetry  such  as  "Aye,  note  that  potter's  wheel,"  ^ 
"O  to  mount  again  where  erst  I  haunted,  where  the  old 
red  hills  are  bird  enchanted,"  ^  Again,  "Say  not  the 
struggle  naught  availeth."  ^  I  simply  delight  in  them; 
they  are  companions  to  me.  Well,  dear  Mum,  God 
bless  you. 

February  4.tk,  1910. 
Dear  Mum, — I  am  charmed  with  the  poem  of  Ros- 
setti's.  I  should  like  to  know  who  Rossetti  is  *?  He  is 
not  a  person  I  know,  like  Browning  or  Clough.  I  sup- 
pose he  is  a  person  like  Dante  ?  At  any  rate,  he  wrote 
wonderful  poetry.  Did  he  not  write  "Does  the  road 
wind  up  hill  all  the  way*?"  *  I  read  that  poem  often. 
When  one  has  read  it  once  or  twice  it  suddenly  dawns 
upon  you,  and  every  time  you  read  it  you  get  more 
out  of  it  each  time.     It  is  so  vast!    It  is  more  than 

*  ••Rabbi  Ben  Ezra,"  Browning. 
"In  the  Highlands,"  Stevenson. 
Clough. 

*  Christina  Rossetti. 


122  CHRISTOPHER 

simple  poetry!  I  shall  be  very  pleased  to  have  "The 
old  plain  men  have  rosy  faces."  ^  Doctor  says  my  knee 
all  right  again.  Am  just  going  down  to  dinner,  and 
shall  do  lessons  as  usual. 

June  ^tk,  1910. 

To-day  the  match-cards  are  given  out  by  the  cap- 
tain of  the  eleven.  There  is  a  second-eleven  match  next 
Saturday.  I  am  getting  on  very  well  with  my  music, 
also  with  my  cricket !  Well,  dear  Mum,  I  long  to  be 
with  you.  I  often  imagine  you  sitting  in  the  drawing- 
room  with  Clytie  ^  and  the  Icon.^  The  Darling  must 
be  often  passing  between  us. 

All  is  well  here. 

June  igtJi,  1910. 
The  sports  are  drawing  near,  and  I  hope  to  see  you 
on  the  23rd.  There  will  be  another  "Hesperid"  *  for 
the  sports,  of  which  I  am  one  of  the  editors.  It  goes 
to  be  printed  early  to-morrow  morning.  I  think  it  is 
going  to  be  very  good  indeed.  I  and  Tennant  minor 
have  written  a  long  account  of  Mr.  Helbert's  birth- 
day. You  will  see  an  account  of  my  day  there.  At 
the  end  of  our  account  we  put 

"Long  live  Mr.  Helbert!" 

but  he  would  not  put  it  in!  The  "Hesperid"  is,  as 
you  know,  our  school  paper. 

*"In  the  Highlands,"   Stevenson. 

*A  cast  of  the  bust  in  the  British  Museum. 

'An  ancient  Russian  icon  given  to  his  sister  Daphne  by  her  god- 
father, Dr.  Hagbcrg  Wright,  brought  back  by  him  from  Russia, 
where  he  had  gone  to  visit  Tolstoi  at  Yasnaya  Polyana. 

*The  School  Magazine. 


WEST  DOWNSj  123 

The  editors  are: 


Tennant  ma.,* 
Tennant  mi.,* 
Goff  ^  assisting, 
Ramsay  *  assisting. 


We  have  each  done  a  lot  of  it.  I  think  you  will  like 
it  immensely.  I  am  keeping  my  reputation  up  as  a 
prefect,  and  will  do  so  all  through  the  end  of  the 
term. 

September  i8M,  1910. 
There  is  going  to  be  a  French  play  at  the  end  of  this 
term  called  Le  Bourgeois  Gentilhomme.  It  is  by 
Moliere.  You  no  doubt  know  it.  Tennant  minor  is 
acting  the  part  of  M.  Jourdain,  the  bourgeois;  I  am 
acting  the  part  of  Madame  Jourdain,  who  is  supposed 
to  be  very  sensible!  The  play  is  frightfully  amusing; 
I  roared  with  laughter  as  we  went  through  it.  There 
is  no  news.    I  am  getting  on  very  well  indeed. 

December  ^th,  1910. 
Yesterday  evening  the  long  dormitory  acted  Ham' 
let;  it  was  very  amusing  in  parts,  especially  when  the 
ghost  came  in  wrapped  in  a  sheet !  But  it  was  nothing 
compared  to  The  Taming  of  the  Shrew.^  I  shall  be 
able  to  make  sure  of  my  French  play  in  the  holidays, 

'  Himself. 

'Edward  Wyndham  Tennant,  later  Lieut.,  Grenadier  Guards. 
Killed   in   action   September  22nd,   1916. 

*T.  R,  C.  Goff,  Lieut,  Scots  Guards.    Wounded  October  9th,  1917. 

*W.  A.  Ramsay,  Sec. -Lieut,  Oxford  and  Bucks  Light  Infantry. 
Prisoner  of  War. 

•in  which  he  had  recently  acted,  taking  the  part  of  Petruchio. 


124  CHRISTOPHER 

as  it  is  definitely  postponed  to  next  term.  I  send  you 
an  Order  in  which  I  came  out  head  boy,  so  I  am  still 
retaining  my  position  as  top  of  the  school. 

The  Christmas  holidays  this  year  were  spent  at 
Hubborn,  a  pleasant  old  house  near  Highcliffe  which 
his  parents  had  taken  for  the  winter.  It  was  within 
easy  reach  of  Christchurch  with  its  fine  Priory,  of  Bar- 
ton Cliffs  famous  for  their  fossils,  and  of  the  New 
Forest,  which  the  family  party  explored  in  many  direc- 
tions by  motor. 

The  beauty  of  the  country  lying  round  Burley,  Pick- 
etts  Post,  and  Lyndhurst  was  a  joy  to  the  boy.  More 
than  once  he  visited  Rufus  Stone — a  memorial  mark- 
ing the  spot  where  William  Rufus  was  slain  whilst 
hunting  in  the  New  Forest  in  i  loo.  The  stone  is  sur- 
rounded by  magnificent  beech  woods,  then  in  all  the 
loveliness  of  their  winter  state,  bare  branch  and  spray 
rising  from  the  russet  carpet  of  their  fallen  leaves. 

A  small  incident  recorded  at  this  time  in  his  Mother's 
diary  gives  an  insight  into  one  side  of  the  boy's  nature. 
He  had  been  promoted  during  these  holidays  to  joining 
his  parents  at  dinner  on  two  evenings  in  the  week. 
This  was  a  welcome  change  from  the  "early  to  bed" 
regime,  precious  too  as  a  sign  of  emancipation  from 
childish  things.  But  after  a  week  or  two  he  suddenly 
gave  it  up  and  reverted  to  the  early  supper  arrange- 
ment. Perfect  freedom — in  so  far  as  it  is  compatible 
with  a  child's  safety  and  the  give-and-take  of  family 
life — ^being  the  law  of  his  upbringing,  the  change  was 


WEST  DOWNS  125 

accepted  by  his  parents  without  comment,  and  it  was 
not  until  a  few  weeks  later  that  the  cause  became 
known  to  his  Mother,  who  noted  it  in  her  diary  as 
follows : 

"Much  touched  yesterday  to  find  Christopher  had  volun- 
tarily abandoned  his  two  late  dinners  a  week  with  us  because 
on  the  nights  he  stayed  up  I  did  not  read  the  Bible  and  pray 
with  him  as  my  custom  is  on  other  nights.  Rather  than  miss 
this  he  went  to  bed  at  7.15  p.m.  instead  of  dining  with  us. 
Arranged  in  consequence  that  he  should  stay  up  once  a  week, 
and  that  I  would  read  to  him  as  usual  on  that  night." 

To  the  end  of  his  days  the  things  which  are  unseen 
and  eternal  remained  very  real  to  him.  Free  from  the 
least  trace  of  priggishness,  his  attitude  to  this  side  of 
his  life  was  entirely  natural  and  entirely  unconven- 
tional. He  accepted  the  outward  forms  of  Anglicanism 
but  he  never  found  in  them  the  natural  expression  of 
his  religious  sense.  Dogma  had  no  meaning  for  him, 
still  less  the  idea  of  religion  seen  as  a  useful  kind  of 
police  force  to  restrain  the  young  and  adventurous — a 
view  secretly  held  by  many  adults.  He  was  on  the 
side  of  the  rebels  on  this  as  on  many  other  questions, 
but  it  was  the  rebellion  of  one  lit  by  an  inner  vision, 
who  found  in  the  official  system  little  that  satisfied  his 
sense  of  the  immensities  with  which  his  individual  life 
was  hedged. 

He  did  not  return  to  West  Downs  at  the  beginning 
of  1911.  During  the  past  term  there  had  been  a  num- 
ber of  cases  of  Hoffman's  bacillus  (a  more  or  less 
harmless  germ  often  found  in  the  throat)  in  the  school, 


126  CHRISTOPHER 

and  the  order  had  gone  forth  that  each  boy's  throat 
was  to  be  swabbed  before  his  return  from  the  Christ- 
mas holidays.  Bacteriological  examination  showed 
that  the  bacillus  was  present  in  Christopher's  throat, 
and  there  was  nothing  for  it  but  to  keep  him  at  home 
and  give  him  such  help  with  his  work  as  a  tutor  who 
came  three  times  a  week  from  Winchester  could  pro- 
vide. 

He  was  already  keen  to  try  for  a  scholarship  at  Eton 
(which  his  grandfather  had  entered  in  1841)  or  at 
Winchester,  and  the  loss  of  the  regular  term's  work 
was  a  set-back  which  made  the  prospects  of  his  getting 
one  rather  remote.  By  the  end  of  March  he  was 
passed  free  from  germs  and  returned  to  West  Downs. 
Early  in  April  a  chance  vacancy,  due  to  the  ploughing 
of  a  candidate,  occurred  in  K  house  at  Winchester  Col- 
lege. This  was  offered  to  Christopher  through  Mr. 
Helbert,  and  it  was  decided  that  he  should  accept  it 
and  try  for  a  scholarship  in  the  following  July.  He 
left  West  Downs  in  April  and  went  in  May,  1911,  to 
Kingsgate  House,  Winchester  (Mr.  R.  D.  Beloe), 
where  he  was  to  remain  for  the  next  five  years. 


WEST  DOWNS  127 


SUPPLEMENT  TO  CHAPTER  VII 

As  an  example  of  the  effect  of  the  Great  War  upon 
the  careers  of  the  boys  who  were  together  in  a  private 
school  in  1909,  the  following  complete  list  of  those 
who  were  at  West  Downs  in  1909  is  included,  the 
particular  war  service  being  noted  against  each  name, 
at  or  about  the  date  of  August,  1918. 

WEST   DOWNS 

Division  List 

Short  Half,  1909  (Winter  Term). 

IV.a. 
Archer Major,    R.F.A.    and    R.F.C.,    Flight 

Commander.     Military  Cross. 

PiGOTT R.F.A.,  Sec-Lieut.     Killed  in  action. 

Seely,  ma Hampshire   Regiment,    Sec-Lieut. 

Killed  in  action,  April,  1917. 

Beith 19th  Hussars,  Lieut.     Wounded. 

Crawley     ....    R.B.,  Sec-Lieut. 

Deane Lancashire   Fusiliers,   Sec-Lieut. 

Wounded. 


Tennant,  ma.     .     .    Sec-Lieut.,  Welsh  Guards.    Killed  in 

action,  September  3rd,  1917. 

DE  Burgh    ....    R.F.A.  and  R.F.C.,  Capt. 

BosTOCK       ....     R.H.A.,  Sec-Lieut. 

Ramsay Oxford    and    Bucks    Light    Infantry, 

Sec-Lieut.    Prisoner  of  War. 

MoRLEY R.N.,  Sub.-Lieut. 


128 

Sinclair 

Mackeson   . 

Stewart 
French  .     . 
Broadhurst 


BiRKBECK,    MA.       .      . 

Selby-Lowndes    .    . 
Palmer,  mi.    .     .    . 

Tennant,  mi.      .    . 

Pasteur,  ma.  .    .    . 
Carthew-Yorstoun 

Collins 

Palmer,  ma.    .    .    . 

PURDEY 

Browning  .... 

Davies 


Philipson-Stow 

Somerville 

Heaton-Ellis 

BiRKBECK, 
GOFF    .      .      . 

Cotton,  ma. 


CHRISTOPHER 


R.N.,     Sub.-Licut.      Invalided     out: 

Woolwich. 
Rifle    Brigade,    Sec-Lieut.      Died    of 

wounds,  August,  1917. 
Hussars,  Sec-Lieut. 
Irish  Guards. 
Gordon     Highlanders,     Sec-Lieut. 

Twice  wounded. 


IV.b. 
Rifle     Brigade,     Captain.       Military 

Cross. 
19th  Hussars,  Lieut.     Wounded. 
R.F.A.,    Sec-Lieut.      Gassed,    June, 

197- 
Grenadier  Guards,  Lieut.     Killed  in 

action,  September,  1916. 
M.G.C.,  Captain.     Military  Cross. 
Black  Watch,  Sec-Lieut. 
R.F.A.,  Sec-Lieut. 
Argyle   and   Sutherland  Highlanders, 

R.F.C.,  Captain.     Wounded. 
Argyle  and  Sutherland  Highlanders. 

Lieut. 
Grenadier  Guards,  Captain.    Croix  de 

Guerre,  D.S.O. 
West     Yorkshire     Regiment,     Lieut. 

Wounded. 


III.a. 
R.G.A.,  Sec-Lieut. 


MI. 


Wood 


R.N.,  Sub.-Lieut. 

R.F.C.,  Flight  Commander.    D.F.C. 
Scots  Guards,  Lieut.     Wounded. 
R.N.,  Midshipman.     Killed  in  action, 

May,  1916. 
R.H.A.      and     R.F.A.,     Sec-Lieut. 

Wounded. 


WEST  DOWNS 


129 


Baines    .    .    . 

Walter       .     . 

McCoRQUODALE 

Hawker      .    . 

Randolph   .    . 


Martin-Holland,  ma. 


Rouquette 

McCoNNEL 

Smith,  ma. 
Oswald  .     .     . 
molyneux,  ma. 
Gascoigne  .    . 


bucknall   . 
Pasteur,  mi. 
Button 
Miles-Bailey 
Knollys 


HOTHAM 

White    .    . 
Wilkinson 
Seely,  mi.  . 
Fellowes    . 

POORE        .      . 

Graham 
Phillips 
Martin-Holland,  mi. 
Shirley  .     .     . 
Tennant,  min. 
Vaughan -Johnson 


LiNZEE      .      .      . 

Molyneux,  mi. 


R.N.,  Sub.-Lieut. 
Sec-Lieut.,  Scots  Greys. 
Sec-Lieut.,  R.F.A. 
R.F.A.,  Sec-Lieut. 


in.b. 

Lancers,  Sec-Lieut.    Killed  in  action, 

March  26th,  1918. 
R.G.A.,  Sec-Lieut. 
Scots  Guards,  Lieut. 
R.N.,  Sub.-Lieut. 
Bengal  Lancers,  Sec-Lieut. 
Guards,  Sec-Lieut. 
Grenadier    Guards,    Lieut.      Died   of 

wounds,  April  I2th,  1918. 
Hussars,  Sec-Lieut. 
Sec-Lieut. 

Hampshire  Regiment,  Sec-Lieut. 
Rifle  Brigade,  Sec-Lieut.     Wounded. 


ILa. 

R.N.,  Sub.-Lieut. 
R.N.,  Sub.-Lieut. 
R.N.,  Sub.-Lieut. 


Il.b. 
R.N.,  Midshipman. 
R.N.,  Midshipman. 
May,  1916. 


Killed  in  action, 


130 


CHRISTOPHER 


Rees  .    . 

Child 

MORANT 

Parker   , 
Peacock 


R.N.,  Midshipman. 
Artists'  Rifles,  Private. 


Tyrone  .... 
Blackett  .  .  . 
collingwood,  ma. 
collingwood,  mi. 
Cotton,  mi.  .  . 
Smith,  ml  •    .    . 


R.N.,  Midshipman.    Invalided  out. 
R.N.,  Midshipman. 

R.N.V.R.,  Midshipman. 


CHAPTER  VIII 


WINCHESTER 


"Therefore  if  any  young  man  here  have  embarked  his  life  in 
pursuit  of  knowledge,  let  him  go  on  without  doubting  or  fear- 
ing the  event ;  let  him  not  be  intimidated  by  the  cheerless  begin- 
nings of  knowledge,  by  the  darkness  from  which  she  springs, 
by  the  difficulties  which  hover  around  her,  by  the  wretched 
habitations  in  which  she  dwells,  by  the  want  and  sorrow  which 
sometimes  journey  in  her  train;  but  let  him  ever  follow  her 
as  the  Angel  that  guards  him,  and  as  the  Genius  of  his  life. 
She  will  bring  him  out  at  last  into  the  light  of  day,  and  exhibit 
him  to  tlve  world  comprehensive  in  acquirements,  fertile  in 
resources,  rich  in  imagination,  strong  in  reasoning,  prudent  and 
powerful  above  his  fellows  in  all  the  relations  and  in  all  the 
offices  of  life." 

Sidney  Smith,  quoted  by  Ruskin,  in  "Praeterita." 

In  the  belief  that  parents  of  past  and  future  Winches- 
ter boys  (or  "men,"  as  they  are  officially  called)  may 
be  interested  in  details  of  life  there,  this  chapter  is  left 
longer  than  it  need  otherwise  be.  The  letters  all  ex- 
hibit the  dominating  influence  of  his  Mother,  and  in 
some  of  them  he  shows  himself  rather  "old"  for  his 
age.  But  that  is  rather  characteristic  of  serious  boys  of 
fourteen,  and  as  they  grow  in  real  experience  they  get 
younger  in  expression  and  probably  in  feeling.  The 
phase  is  a  necessary  one  to  go  through,  and  we  ought  to 
be  able  to  sympathise  with  earnest  young  enthusiasm, 

131 


132  CHRISTOPHER 

for  it  is  surely  a  mistake  to  inflict  on  youth  the  reti- 
cences and  precautions — ^miscalled  the  disillusionment 
— of  age;  nor  can  we  expect  from  youth  a  premature 
abandonment  of  expressions  of  self-conscious  enjoy- 
ment. 

It  may  be,  after  all,  that  the  illusion  is  on  our  side : 
youth  may  recognise  serious  values  more  clearly  than 
we,  who  have  the  world  too  much  with  us,  and,  per- 
chance, by  getting  and  spending  have  laid  waste  our 
powers.  When  we  remember  all  that  boys  have  to  go 
through,  we  can  read  their  home  letters  with  a  sym- 
pathetic eye. 

Aged  13. 

Kingsgate  House,  Winchester,  May  \^th,  1911. 

Dear  Mum, — ^All  is  well  here.  I  am  in  the  Chan- 
try ^  quire,  and  like  it  very  much.  You  can  imagine  me 
in  that  beautiful  place.  I  am  not  allowed  to  wear  my 
white  boots  until  I  am  in  the  first  eleven!    I  have  to 

*  Winchester  College  is  one  of  the  oldest  and  most  famous  of  the 
great  Public  Schools  of  England.  It  was  founded  by  William  of 
Wykeham  (born  1324,  consecrated  Bishop  of  Winchester  1367,  died 
1404)  in  the  fourteenth  century.  The  foundation  stone  of  the 
Chapel  was  laid  in  1382,  and  twelve  years  later  the  Warden  and 
Scholars  entered  into  possession  of  the  College  buildings.  The  great 
Outer  Gateway  was  built  in  1394,  the  central  niche  above  it  still 
retaining  a  beautiful  statue  of  the  Virgin.  The  College  has  under- 
gone extraordinarily  little  change  considering  its  five  hundred  years 
of  existence.  There  are  now  70  Scholars  and  nearly  380  students, 
not  on  the  foundation,  who  reside  in  Tutor's  houses.  The  motto 
of  the  School,  given  to  it  by  its  Founder,  is  "Manners  Makyth  Man." 

*A  two-storied  building  surrounded  by  cloisters  built  by  Fromond, 
Steward  of  the  Hants  and  Wilts  estates  of  the  College  until  1420. 
Used  now  as  a  chapel  for  the  juniors,  who  number  about  one  hundred, 
and  must  spend  at  least  a  year  in  Chantry  before  passing  into  chapel. 


WINCHESTER  133 

know  all  the  colours  and  cups,  etc.,  and  "Domum"! 
I  am  learning  hard,  but  I  have  got  over  a  week  more. 
My  "Toys"  are  so  delicious,  with  The  Darling  and  all 
my  photographs.^  I  have  been  oiling  my  bat.  My 
form  master  is  very  nice.  Our  class-room  is  a  very 
nice  and  large  one.  There  are  about  2o  boys  in  my 
div. 

Generally  I  get  up  at  6.15  and  dress.  Then  I  go 
over  with  a  socius  ^  to  school,  and  we  have  one  hour's 
lessons  (called  Morning  Lines).  Then  I  come  back  to 
the  House  very  hungry  and  have  breakfast.  After 
breakfast  we  do  anything  we  like;  go  down  to  shops,* 
etc.  Then  we  come  up  and  work  till  lunch.  We  have 
lunch,  and  after  lunch  we  do  anything  we  like.  Then 
I  go  down  to  the  nets  and  watch  out  (field)  or  play 
crockets.*  Then  I  come  up  and  work  till  tea.  After 
tea  we  do  anything,  and  then  have  toy-time,  when  we 
prepare  for  the  next  day;  then  prayers  and  then  bed. 
When  the  clock  strikes  ten  all  talking  stops,  and  I  go 
to  sleep. 

A  long  day! 

Kingsgate  House,  Winchester,  May  14/^,  1911. 

All  is  well  here.  I  find  we  never  wear  our  dressing- 
gowns  except  once  or  twice.  When  we  go  to  our  cold 
tub  in  the  morning  we  simply  wrap  a  towel  round  us 

^  "Toys"  is  the  Winchester  name  for  the  place  where  each  man 
keeps  his  private  belongings.    See  p.  135,  footnote. 

*  A  companion ;  it  being  a  bad  "Notion"  to  walk  into  Meads  be- 
tween hours  without  one. 

*  The  shops  in  College  and  Kingsgate  Streets,  which  are  licet  for 
men  in  the  School. 

*  Cricket. 


134  CHRISTOPHER 

and  go  like  that !  .  .  .  I  have  been  learning  "Domum," 
as  Notion  examination  is  next  Wednesday !  You  have 
to  stand  in  a  row  in  prefis'  lib.^  All  men  compete  who 
have  not  been  here  two  years,  so  each  term  for  two 
years  I  shall  have  to  know  and  say  my  notions.^  It  is 
a  bad  Notion  to  take  a  coat  and  umbrella.  You  may 
only  take  one!  It  has  been  raining  this  morning.  I 
took  my  umbrella  to  prevent  spoiling  my  cather  (top 
hat).  I  have  got  all  my  delicious  photographs  in  my 
toys.  You  and  the  Darling  and  Deedooge  and  little 
Alexander.  ...  I  was  bottom  out  of  26  boys  at  the 
beginning  of  the  term.  I  am  now  fourth.  I  hope  to 
rise  to  top  and  then  into  a  higher  division.  .  .  .  Mo- 
berly  Library  ^  is  a  magnificent  place.  It  is  a  large 
room,  full  of  books.  There  must  be  silence.  There 
are  marvellous  books  all  in  different  headings,  Poetry, 
Fiction,  Classical — you  can  think  of  me  withdrawing 
there  and  having  peace ! 

May^  1911. 
Mr.  Kendall  has  been  appointed  Head  Master.  I 
like  him,  and  think  he  will  make  a  very  good  one.  I 
have  just  been  to  Gunner's  hole  (the  school  bathing 
place) ;  it  is  all  in  the  open  air  and  so  delightful.  We 
bathe  with  nothing  on,  and  it  is  very  slow  running 
water.  It  is  an  enormous  place  and  so  nice.  I  can  swim 
quite  a  long  way  now. 

*The   sitting-room   of   the   prefects. 

*Any  word,  custom,  person,  or  place  peculiar  to  Wykehamists,  and 
handed  on  from  one  generation  to  another,  is  called  a  "notion."  See 
the  vocabulary  "Winchester  College  Notions,"  two  vols.,  2nd  edition, 
1910   (Wells,  booksellers  to  the  College,  Winchester). 

*The  School  Library,  opened  in  1870,  and  named  after  a  former 
Head  Master. 


WINCHESTER  135 

My  work,  only  as  far  as  marks  go,  is  not  getting  on 
well.  The  thing  that  pulls  me  down  in  marks  is  the 
weekly  Essay  on  Saturday  night,  and  somehow  I  can- 
not do  them  well.  But  in  other  respects  I  am  working 
hard,  and  as  long  as  I  know  that  it  is  all  right,  and 
you  do  not  have  an  Essay  in  Scholarship  Exam.  I 
must  work  doubly  hard  to  catch  up  in  other  ways. 
Pray  for  me,  dear  Mum.  The  Darling  is  sure  to  help 
me,  and  I  hope  to  get  on  very  well.  I  am  now  "in 
course"  for  toy-room,^  which  means  I  have  to  sweep 
out  toy-room  two  times  a  day  I  and  I  also  have  to  put 
changing-room  straight.  If  you  do  not  do  this  you 
get  beaten.  Some  met.  have  already  been  for  not 
sweeping  out !  I  do  not  think  I  shall  forget ! 

July  14M,  1911.  • 
All  is  well.    I  was  cut  out  from  scholarship.    Only 
just  over  20  out  of  80  were  left  in.    Mr.  Helbert  said 
some  of  the  papers  were  very  hard.    I  have  got  them 
all.    Some  were  easy.    All  well. 

October  \st^  1911. 

Oh!  Mum, — I  shall  soon  be  14!    I  sometimes  feel 

very  lonely,  and  feel  there  are  many  things  and  many 

people  I  do  not  understand.    I  feel  that  my  life  might 

be  more  than  it  is,  and  that  I  might  be  more  of  a  com- 

*The  room  surrounded  by  the  toys  of  the  men,  and  in  which  they 
do  their  preparation.  Each  man  has  his  own  "toys,"  an  upright  cup- 
board about  53^  ft.  high  and  i  ft.  deep,  in  which  he  keeps  his  books 
and  other  belongings.  It  is  divided  into  two  parts  by  a  slab  pro- 
jecting out  at  about  30  in.  from  the  floor.  The  upper  part  contains 
three  shelves,  the  top  and  bottom  ones  being  usually  reserved  for 
books  and  stationery,  the  middle  one  for  ornaments  and  photographs. 
The  seat  is  18  in.  from  the  floor,  and  quite  separate  from  the  toys. 


136  CHRISTOPHER 

panion  to  you  and  closer  to  you  than  I  am.  I  love  you 
so,  so  very  much,  and  suddenly  I  realise  that  all  life  is 
so  wonderful  and  I  am  so  small  and  understand  so  lit- 
tle of  things.  The  days  here  seem  empty  and  monoto- 
nous. I  am  very  happy,  however,  and  am  getting  on 
with  the  other  boys  simply  splendidly  I 

I  do  enjoy  my  work.  I  am  nearly  getting  out  of  the 
drudgery,  and  I  often  feel  intense  joy  in  Horace,  Xeno- 
phon,  etc.  I  am  now  sitting  top  of  Mid  Part  II.  I 
worked  my  way  up,  but  there  are  some  very  clever 
men  in  the  div.  God  bless  you,  my  darling  mother. 
Oh,  if  only  we  two  kindred  spirits  could  flee  to  the 
haunts  of  joy  and  peace — to  see  "magic  casements 
opening  on  the  foam  of  perilous  seas  in  fairy  lands 
forlorn"  I  ^ 

I  think  of  Maud  Allan^  unfolding  like  a  lovely 
flower  I  Sweet  joy  is  mine  now.®  Mizpah.  Your 
adoring 

Cruff 

Aged  14. 

October  31  J/,  1911. 
Dearest  darling  Mumsey, — Many,  many  happy 
returns  of  your  birthday.  I  hope  and  feel  sure  there  is 
a  very  happy  year  in  store  for  you,  and  that  the 
Darling  will  bless  you  abundantly.  You  know  it  says 
in  Proverbs,  "Blessed  is  a  virtuous  woman,  for  all 
her  children  rise  up  and  call  her  blessed."  All  your 
children  do  bless  you  and  love  you  more  than  words 
can  express.     Your  dear  "buff day"  will  always  bring 

^  Keats,  "Ode  to  a  Nightingale." 

*Then  dancing  Mendelssohn's  "Spring  Song"  in  London. 

*See  Blake,  "Songs  of  Innocence." 


WINCHESTER  137 

you  the  thought  of  an  infinite  store  of  happiness  for 
future  years.  I  wish  I  could  be  with  you  to-morrow, 
but  I  shall  always  be  thinking  of  you.  I  hope  you 
will  have  a  really  nice  fine  day.  I  remember  well  when 
we  took  X  to  The  Nameless  Spot  and  saw  dear  Fan 
Gihirych/    Think  to  yourself 

I  happy  am, 
Joy  is  my  name. 

Sweet  joy  befall  thee!^ 

P.S. — I  save  just  been  out  to  tea  with  Mr.  Robin- 
son, my  late  div.  master.  After  a  good  tea  we  all  read 
the  "Midsummer  Night's  Dream,"  each  taking  a  part. 
I  was  very  dramatic  and  Coquelinish !  * 

God  bless  you. — Your  adoring  Cruff. 

Early  in  November  of  this  year  Christopher  had  a 
severe  attack  of  measles,  which  affected  his  heart,  and 
by  medical  advice  he  was  sent  home  on  sick  leave.  He 
did  not  return  to  Winchester  until  the  end  of  the 
Christmas  holidays. 

The  interval  was  spent  at  Hilders,  a  house  which  his 
grandfather,  George  Pearce-Serocold,*  had  taken  for 

*  One  of  the  Breconshire  mountains.    See  also  p.  87. 

*  Blake's   "Infant  Joy"  in   "Songs  of  Innocence." 

'  Coquelin  aine  was  a  personal  friend  of  the  family. 

*  Obiit  July,  1912,  aged  84.  Leaving  Eton  in  1841,  George  Pearce- 
Serocold  joined  the  Navy,  and  sailed  with  the  last  of  Nelson's  cap- 
tains. Sir  William  Parker,  who  became  Commander-in-Chief  of  the 
Fleet  in  the  first  China  war,  and  flew  his  flag  on  the  Cornivallis. 
After  the  storming  and  capture  of  Ching  Kiang  Foo,  the  Treaty  of 
Nankin  was  signed  in  1842,  George  Pearce-Serocold,  as  the  youngest 
midshipman  in  the  Fleet,  carrying  the  treaty  to  be  signed  on  a  silver 
salver.     He  subsequently  saw  a  good  deal  of  active  service  in  H.M.S. 


138  CHRISTOPHER 

the  winter  on  the  slopes  high  above  Haslemere,  and 
not  far  from  Hindhead.  The  surrounding  country — 
called  by  Tyndall  "the  Switzerland  of  England" — was 
explored  in  every  direction,  and  many  places  of  inter- 
est further  afield  were  visited  more  than  once.  Aid- 
worth,  Tennyson's  summer  home,  with  the  view  over 
the  Sussex  Weald  "long  known  and  lov'd"  by  the  poet, 

"Green  Sussex  fading  into  blue^ 
With  one  grey  glimpse  of  sea," 

was  but  a  few  miles  away. 

The  great  house  at  Petworth,  which  is  thrown  open 
to  the  public  on  certain  days,  was  also  an  attraction 
for  the  sake  of  the  fine  collection  of  pictures  which  it 
contains,  examples  of  Raphael,  Titian,  Holbein,  a 
grand  portrait  of  Rodney  by  Sir  Joshua  Reynolds,  and 
some  very  beautiful  Turners,  hung  for  the  most  part 
not  in  the  unattractive  bareness  of  a  picture  gallery, 
but  set  about  in  rooms  which  are  lived  in,  and  gaining 
immensely  thereby.  The  run  through  the  park  sur- 
rounding Cowdray  Abbey,  near  Midhurst,  was  a  fa- 
vourite motor  drive;  the  great  avenues  of  leafless  trees, 
and  the  stretches  of  park  land  where  deer  were  often  to 
be  seen,  made  the  place  a  veritable  winter  fairy  land. 

In  another  direction  lay  Newlands  Corner,  ap- 
proached by  Albury  and  up  a  slope  dotted  with  juni- 
per trees.     The  beauty  of  the  well-known  view,  with 

Watertuitch,  then  employed  in  the  suppression  of  the  slave  trade 
on  the  West  Coast  of  Africa.  After  his  retirement  from  the  Navy 
he  spent  ten  years  sheep  farming  in  Queensland,  Mount  Serocold  io 
Central  Queensland  being  named  after  him. 


WINCHESTER  139 

the  little  church  of  St.  Martha  in  the  foreground  and 
the  bold  outline  of  Hindhead  in  the  distance,  was  an 
unceasing  delight;  on  grey  days,  on  days  of  sunshine 
and  cloud,  by  morning  light  or  in  the  gathering  dusk 
of  a  winter  afternoon,  it  was  always  touched  with  some- 
thing of  the  mystery  of  perfect  loveliness. 

The  eastern  side  of  Hampshire  was  also  accessible, 
and  among  other  places  expeditions  were  made  to  Sel- 
borne,  where  a  beautiful  triptych  of  the  Dutch  School 
glows  like  a  jewel  above  the  altar  of  the  little  grey 
church,  and  memories  of  Gilbert  White  meet  one  at 
every  turn ;  and  to  the  old  town  of  Petersfield,  with  its 
quaint  streets  and  Norman  church. 

But  most  loved  by  the  boy  and  most  often  returned 
to  was  Compton,  that  spot  sacred  to  all  who  have 
drawn  inspiration  from  the  life  and  work  of  G.  F. 
Watts. 

Watts  was  much  more  than  a  name  to  the  boy.  The 
delicate  intimate  little  appreciation  of  the  Master  writ- 
ten by  Frederic  Myers  and  published  in  his  "Frag- 
ments of  Prose  and  Poetry"  (a  book  which  Christopher 
knew  from  cover  to  cover),  had  made  Watts  a  very  real 
personality  to  him.  There  was  also  a  further  link 
through  Myers'  poem,  ''Stanzas  on  Mr.  Watts'  Col- 
lected Works,"  which  contains  an  allusion  to  Watts' 
painting  "Daphne." 

Compton  is  a  typical  Surrey  village,  set  beneath  the 
shelter  of  the  Hog's  Back,  and  surrounded  by  unbroken 
country,  part  arable,  part  woodland.  There  is  a  peace 
and  a  beauty  about  it  to  which  many  who  know  and 


140  CHRISTOPHER 

love  the  place  must  often  have  returned  in  thought 
through  these  dark  years  of  War,  and  over  it  all  the 
spirit  of  the  Master  seems  to  brood.  Limnerslease,  his 
house,  stands  close  to  the  picture  gallery  which  he 
built  to  contain  a  representative  collection  of  his  works. 
The  gallery  is  a  one-storied  building  (always  fragrant 
with  the  faint  scent  of  some  aromatic  wax  used  for 
polishing  the  wooden  floor),  and  on  its  walls  hang 
many  of  Watts's  masterpieces — "The  Slumber  of  the 
Ages,"  of  which  the  painter  wrote,  "In  this  picture  the 
great  stretches  of  time,  since  the  earth  ceased  to  be  a 
formless  mass,  are  represented  as  a  mighty  Mother, 
with  Man,  the  child  upon  her  lap,  growing  to  conscious 
knowledge  of  himself  and  of  his  place  in  the  scheme 
of  creation;"  "Paolo  and  Francesca,"  swept  along — but 
together — by  the  winds  of  hell  as  Dante  saw  them; 
"Orpheus  and  Eurydice,"  and — ^perhaps  the  gem  of 
the  collection — "Endymion."  "As  he  lies  asleep,  his 
staff  in  his  hand,  his  dog  sleeping  also  at  his  feet,  the 
moon-goddess  comes  down  to  him,  and,  bending  in 
crescent  form  above  him,  places  a  hand  beneath  his 
head  and  kisses  him  upon  the  lips.  It  is  as  if  the  beauty 
of  the  night-time  had  become  sentient,  and  felt  and 
obtained  response  to  love,  passionate,  yet  pure  and 
calm."  * 

Other  well-known  pictures  in  the  collection  are 
"Good  Luck  to  your  Fishing,"  "Dawn,"  and  the  por- 
traits of  Josephine  Butler,  Joachim,  and  the  beautiful 
Rachel  Gurney  (Lady  Dudley). 

'"G.  F.  Watts."     By  J.  E.  Phythian. 


WINCHESTER  141 

Many  happy  hours  were  spent  by  Mother  and  Son 
in  this  little  gallery,  which  was  within  an  easy  motor 
drive  from  Hilders. 

Adjoining  the  gallery  is  the  pottery  established  dur- 
ing Watts's  lifetime,  and  now  carried  on  by  Mrs. 
Watts.  Here  many  things  of  beauty  are  made  and  may 
be  bought,  from  large  pieces  such  as  fountains,  bird- 
baths,  and  great  terra-cotta  jars  to  hold  outdoor  shrubs, 
down  to  tiny  bas-reliefs  of  putti^  and  angels,  and  repro- 
ductions of  Egyptian  scarabs. 

A  winding  country  lane  set  with  trees  leads  to  the 
new  graveyard  of  the  village,  a  rising  slope  of  green 
crowned  by  the  Chapel,  that  unique  treasury  of  sym- 
bolic design  "built  to  the  loving  memory  of  all  who 
find  rest  near  its  walls,  and  for  the  comfort  and  help 
of  those  to  whom  the  sorrow  of  separation  yet  remains," 
and  described  by  Mrs.  Watts  in  her  book,  "The  Word 
in  the  Pattern." 

The  full  significance  of  the  little  building  cannot  be 
understood  apart  from  this  loving  commentary  written 
by  one  who  was  closely  associated  with  its  building, 
and  whose  own  work  has  done  so  much  to  make  it  what 
it  is — a  perfect  shrine.  "A  symbol  may  well  be  com- 
pared to  a  magic  key.  In  one  hand  it  is  nothing  more 
than  a  piece  of  quaintly  wrought  iron,  in  another  it  un- 
locks a  door  into  a  world  of  enchantment."  ^  "As  far 
as  is  possible  .  .  .  every  bit  of  the  decoration  of  this 

*  All  the  passages  here  quoted  are  from  Mrs.  Watts's  book,  "The 
Word  in  the  Pattern."  The  place  made  a  great  impression  on  the 
boy  and  his  mother. 


142  CHRISTOPHER 

chapel,  modelled  in  clay  of  Surrey,  by  Compton  hands, 
under  unusual  conditions — much  of  the  work  having 
been  done  gratuitously,  and  all  of  it  with  the  love  that 
made  the  work  delightful — has  something  to  say, 
though  the  patterns  can  claim  to  be  no  more  than  are 
the  letters  of  a  great  word;  hieroglyphs,  and  very  in- 
adequate as  representations  of  the  possible  reach  of  the 
underlying  thought  suggested  by  them." 

The  decorated  brickwork  of  the  exterior  is  full  of 
beauty.  In  the  belfry  hangs  a  bell,  the  gift  of  Watts, 
which  bears  the  words,  "Be  my  voice  neither  feared  nor 
forgotten."  "Around  the  belfry,  on  the  north  and 
south  sides  runs  a  frieze  of  doves  holding  the  olive 
branch,  signs  of  the  presence  of  the  Spirit  of  God  speak- 
ing unutterable  words  of  peace  to  the  mourner,  of  heal- 
ing after  fiery  trial,  of  anointing  to  the  high  calling  of 
such  as  can  suffer  and  be  strong,  of  crowning  for  the 
conqueror  who  can  rise  above  the  lower  plane  of  self- 
pity.  To  the  east  and  west  are  wings  rising  out  of  the 
heart  of  a  great  seed-husk,  which,  with  the  trumpet- 
shaped  capitals  of  the  small  columns  supporting  the 
belfry  roof,  are  designed  to  suggest  that  ultimate  word 
of  triumph,  'It  is  sown  in  weakness,  it  is  raised  in 
power.'  " 

The  interior  of  the  Chapel  glows  with  colour.  The 
walls  are  covered  with  designs  executed  in  gesso^  with 
a  wealth  of  symbol  and  invention  which  satisfies  heart 
and  eye,  and  are  painted  in  gold  and  rich  colours. 

"The  encircling  groups  of  winged  messengers,  al- 


GRAVE   OF  G.   F.    WATTS   AND   MEMORIAL 
IN   THE   CLOISTER   AT  COMPTON 


WINCHESTER  148 

temately  representing  the  light  or  the  dark  side  of 
things  .  .  .  would  suggest  the  earthly  conditions  in 
which  the  soul  of  man  finds  itself.  The  face  of  the 
angel  carrying  the  symbol  of  light  is  seen,  but  the  face 
of  the  angel  carrying  the  symbol  of  darkness  is  un- 
seen. .  .  .  The  corbels  supporting  a  wealth  of  child 
faces  (one  of  the  oldest  symbols  of  the  soul)  carry  the 
words,  'The  souls  of  the  righteous  are  in  the  hand  of 
God — their  hope  is  full  of  immortality.'  " 

Above  the  altar  is  a  painting  finished  by  Watts  in 
April,  1904 — but  three  months  before  his  death — "a 
smaller  and  somewhat  different  version  of  his  picture  in 
the  National  Gallery  of  British  Art  which  he  called 
The  All-Pervading.'  .  .  .  He  claimed  that  by  line 
and  colour,  as  by  chords  of  music,  that  which  cannot 
be  spoken  in  words  may  be  said  to  the  eye  and  ear  of 
heart  and  mind.  Here  he  has  used  the  symbol  of  the 
blue  sphere  starred  with  flecks  of  light,  to  suggest  the 
whole  vast  universe — 'the  rush  of  Suns  and  roll  of 
Systems,'  safe  in  the  lap  of  the  great  enfolding  figure, 
and  encompassed  by  the  guiding  Hands  of  Love." 

A  steep  path  leads  from  the  Chapel  to  the  higher  por- 
tion of  the  graveyard,  along  which  a  brick  cloister  runs. 
Immediately  before  it  is  the  Master's  grave,  and  with- 
in the  cloister  is  a  memorial  bas-relief,  a  small  recum- 
bent figure  of  Watts  with  panels  at  head  and  foot  from 
his  paintings  "Destiny"  and  "The  Messenger,"  and 
an  inscription  beneath,  with  these  words  from  Ploti» 
nus: 


144  CHRISTOPHER 

"As  one  that  doeth  Truth  cometh  to  the  Light, 

So  he  living  sought  Light  diligently, 
And  dying  could  say.  Now  I  see  that  Great  Light. 

So  may  man's  soul  be  sure  of  Vision 
When  suddenly  she  is  sure  of  Light, 

For  this  Light  is  from  Him  and  is  He." 

It  was  of  Watts  that  Frederic  Myers  wrote,  "For 
such  a  man  what  we  call  death  is  reduced  to  a  mere 
formality;  and  by  an  opening  of  inner  vision  the  im- 
manent becomes  the  manifest  heaven."  ^ 

This  account  of  Compton,  slight  and  imperfect  as 
it  is,  will  perhaps  enable  the  reader  to  understand  the 
profound  influence  which  the  place  exercised  upon 
Christopher.  The  memory  of  it  remained  with  him, 
and  in  later  days  he  returned  there  more  than  once  in 
the  spirit  of  one  who  goes  on  pilgrimage. 

January  2ist,  1912. 
All  is  well  here.  This  morning  we  had  that  de- 
lightful passage  about  Hepseba  ^i/3a.  I  was  second 
in  Macaulay,  and  not  many  marks  behind  the  first 
man.  Our  div.  Don  commented  on  the  magnificence 
of  my  paper.  I  am  going  to  try  and  get  it  back  to 
show  you,  especially  the  criticism  on  Macaulay,  which 
was  not  too  severe,  and  in  which  I  did  not  give  myself 
away  by  any  downright  invective !  I !  I  enjoy  my  work 
here,  and  hope  to  be  senior  and  get  a  prize  at  the  end 
of  the  term.  I  am  looking  forward  to  seeing  you  here 
one  day,  "all  dipt  in  Angel  instincts,"  ^  as  my  Red 
Book  hath  it. 

*  "Fragments  of  Prose  and  Poetry.** 
"Tennyson,  "Princess,"  vii. 


WINCHESTER  145 

The  Darling  watches  over  us,  and  there  is  no  sepa- 
ration in  Love.  God  bless  and  keep  you,  and  give  you 
great  joy. 

Mizpah.    I  am  with  you  always. 

February  18/^,  1912. 

Dearest  Mum, — Oh,  what  a  delightful  time  we 
had  I  Oh,  to  think  we  walked  arm  and  arm  in  all  the 
places  I  walk  in  by  my  wild  lone !  It  was  a  treat  your 
coming  down.  I  enjoyed  the  hot  dish  we  ordered  to- 
gether,^ it  was  a  million  times  nicer  as  we  ordered  it 
together.  I  can  picture  you  now  in  your  sitting-room 
with  fire  and  bulbs,  and  you  can  me  in  my  toys.  This 
week  will  pass  and  bring  at  its  close  the  joy  of  an- 
other meeting.  We  had  that  Epistle  this  morning  at 
11.0:  "And  now  abideth  these  three,  Faith,  Hope,  and 
Love,  but  the  greatest  of  these  is  Love."  I  thought 
of  you  as  I  often  think  of  you,  and  hope  the  term  may 
fly  quickly  and  we  may  have  a  delightful  time  to- 
gether.  All  is  well  here.   I  love  you  very  much. 

Your  own  adoring  Cruff. 

February  l\st^  1912. 

This  afternoon  I  went  to  the  Cathedral  Library, 
after  having  previously  read  your  delightfully  mounted 
extract  you  sent  me.  I  went  to  Rob,  who  is  a  delicious 
old  person,  and  then  we  went  up  into  the  beautiful 
long  room,  and  how  I  enjoyed  the  marvellous  manu- 
scripts! You  can't  possibly  imagine  the  beauty  of 
them. 

There  were  marvellous  illuminations,  but  the  most 

*  An  addition  to  the  last  meal  of  the  day,  which  may  be  ordered  to 
be  sent  in  from  the  school  shop. 


146  CHRISTOPHER 

wonderful  of  all  by  far  was  the  Vulgate  manuscript, 
which  I  saw  and  enjoyed  very  much  I  ^  There  were 
letters  that  went  the  length  of  the  page  which  have 
symbolical  pictures  in  and  along  them.  There  are 
the  most  brilliantly  beautiful  colours  imaginable  I !  I 
saw  one  of  Elijah,  and  in  the  letter  was  the  whole  story 
of  his  life.  Half  way  down  you  saw  the  mantle,  and 
below  Elisha,  on  whom  it  was  falling.  There  were 
also  lovely  rings  and  sapphires  there.    I  did  enjoy  it. 

May  2gtk,  1912. 
Yesterday  was  leave  out  day,  and  as  Beloe  went 
away,  three  of  us  got  leave  to  go  on  the  river.  We  got 
into  three  boats  with  paddles.  They  were  rather  wob- 
bly at  first,  and  we  went  a  long  way,  paddling  on  each 
side  alternately.  We  took  ices  in  tins,  and  books,  and 
we  lay  in  these  boats  in  the  shade  and  ate  ices  I  Most 
delicious !  After  that  we  went  out  in  an  ordinary  boat 
for  a  short  way.  Then  after  lunch  we  went  again  in 
the  paddle  boats,  which  could  have  sails,  but  there  was 
no  wind.  Then  we  bathed  and  had  tea.  We  had  quite 
a  nice  day,  really.  I  have  got  to  clean  some  boots  this 
afternoon,  as  I  forgot  to  shut  a  window  in  galleries, 
and  so  have  not  much  time.  There  have  been  a  few 
cricket  matches.  The  "Wykehamist"  is  just  out,  and 
with  a  splendid  article  on  Classics  and  the  Average 
Boy! — Your  loving 

Chissifor. 

July  14/^,  1912. 
It  is  awfully  hot  here.     I  will  apply  for  "Swiss 
leave"  next  week.    I  am  looking  forward  to  seeing  the 

Dating  from  the  twelfth  century. 


WINCHESTER  147 

King  to-morrow.  We  all  receive  him  in  Chamber 
Court,  and  sing  "Domum"^  and  "God  save  the  King." 
Then  we  meet  him  again  in  the  Warden's  garden, 
which  is  a  most  lovely  place. 

We  are  going  to  win  a  cricket  cup  this  year;  the 
final  round  is  not  quite  finished.  I  have  been  cleaning 
brass  buttons  a  good  deal  this  morning.  I  went  to  a 
lecture  the  other  day  on  "The  Processes  of  Etching 
and  Engraving."  Next  week  we  shall  be  revising  for 
exams. 
Aged   15.  October  llM,  1912. 

I  had  such  a  happy  birthday !  My  cake  is  delicious. 
I  gave  it  all  round.  We  have  just  had  Notion- 
Examina.,  and  the  prefects  let  me  off  easily.  (I  gave 
them  each  a  large  piece  of  cake  I)  Will  you  send  me 
my  two  golf  clubs  and  the  bag,  so  that  I  may  use  them, 
for  I  want  to  play  golf,  and  there  is  another  man  in 
the  house  who  has  just  begun.  .  .  . 

I  remember 

"Act  well  thy  part, 
There  all  thy  duty  lies."  ^ 

Where  do  these  lines  come  from? 

January  2^rd^  1913- 
I  had  the  carriage  to  myself  all  the  way,  and  a  pleas- 
ant journey.    I  arrived  safe  and  got  my  books.    I  send 
you  my  holiday  task,  which  I  had  this  morning,  and 

*The  Winchester  Song,  supposed  to  have  been  carved  on  Domum 
Tree    (an   elm   on   St.   Catherine's  Hill   blown  dov?n   in   1904),   by   a 
"man"  kept  back  for  the   holidays,  who  there  committed  suicide. 
"Pope.     The  correct  version   is: — 

"Honour    and    shame    from    no    condition    rise; 
Act  well  your  part,  there  all  the  honour  lies." 


148  CHRISTOPHER 

did  well  in  it.  I  enclose  the  paper.  It  was  not  very 
hard.  I  am  in  Mr.  Platnauer's  division.  He  is  very 
nice,  and  I  like  him  so  much.  There  are  three  new 
men,  Yates,  Kilburn  and  Ferguson.^  I  am  in  the  same 
toys  and  the  same  dormitory,  but  a  different  and  nicer 
bed.  I  have  to  sweep  out  the  hall  or  toy-room  next 
week.  Nice  to  get  it  over  so  early  in  the  term !  We 
get  up  at  6.45.  I  think  of  you  walking  alone  in  Lon- 
don. However,  we  shall  be  together  again  soon. 
Schlafen  Sie  wohl. 

February  <^th^  1913- 

I  enjoyed  the  debate  I  went  to.  We  all  sat  in  Mo- 
berly  Library,  the  President,  Mr.  Quirk,  sitting  at  a 
large  table.  To  become  a  member  you  pay  is.,  and 
then  you  can  vote.  Debate  is  held  every  other  Mon- 
day. I  send  you  the  rules  of  the  society  and  a  paper 
which  is  given  to  every  member  of  the  society. 

This  is  Gathers  Sunday,^  and  so  I  am  going  again 
to  the  Cathedral.  I  do  enjoy  the  Cathedral,  especially 
the  sixpenny  parts,^  and  it  is  always  interesting  and 
beautiful.  .  .  .  To-day  I  have  finished  all  my  fagging 
for  good,  except  cleaning  boots  every  day  I  I  am  in 
the  middle  of  "Bamaby  Rudge."    So  delightful! 

March  1st,  1913. 
Everything  goes  on  much  the  same  as  usual  here. 
There  is  a  junior  steeplechase  soon.  There  are  also  ath- 
letics (sports)  on  March  25th.     There  was  an  inter- 
esting   lecture    last    week    on    lifeboats    by    Captain 

*  Killed,    1917. 

'A  separate  service  is  held  for  the  School,  in  the  Cathedral,  on 
the   second    Sunday   of   each  month. 

*  This  fee  is  charged  for  admission  to  the  eastern  aisles  and  chapels. 


WINCHESTER  149 

Bathurst.  We  had  a  debate  in  my  dormitory  on 
Woman  Suffrage.  I  was  proposer;  I  spoke  in  favour 
of  it,  and  the  motion  was  easily  carried! 

March  30M,  1913. 

All  is  well  here.  I  got  a  beautiful  driver  (price 
5s.  6d.),  and  I  am  going  to  use  it  to-morrow  when  I 
play  golf.  I  was  fifth  in  my  block  (out  of  about  fifty) 
in  mathematics,  and  first  in  geometry.  The  prize  is 
only  given  for  the  whole  thing;  it  was  won  by  a 
Scholar.  I  have  been  reading  the  "Ancient  Sage"  and 
the  "Passing  of  Arthur."  They  are  marvellously  beau- 
tiful poems  I  It  was  so  exciting  about  Monte^  and  the 
Burglar.  Monte  found  him  in  a  cupboard;  he  was 
hiding,  and  Monte  in  his  pyjamas  collared  him.  The 
burglar  said,  "I  won't  struggle."  Monte  said,  "I  don't 
care  if  you  do!'* 

How  wonderful  St.  Luke  i.  and  ii.  are !  I  have  been 
reading  them.  I  am  truly  sorry  to  lose  Nurse,  and  I 
do  not  think  we  can  realise  how  much  we  shall  miss 
her.  I  hope  she  will  come  back  to  us  and  see  us  again, 
and  perhaps  be  nurse  to  my  children! 

There  are  only  two  more  days,  and  next  half  will 
be  nice,  as  I  shall  have  no  fagging.  To-night  we  read 
"Locksley  Hall."  It  is  a  very  realistic  poem,  but  diffi- 
cult to  understand. 

Fisher's  Hill,  Woking,  April  1913. 
I  arrived  at  Woking  and  saw  Mr.  Balfour  and  Aunt 
Betty  ^  starting  off  for  London.    Then  I  went  in  the  car 

*  Mr.  Montague  Kendall,  Head  Master. 

*The  name  by  which  he  always  called  Lady  Betty  Balfour,  though 
there  was  no  tie  between  them  other  than  that  of  close  friendship. 


150  CHRISTOPHER 

to  various  places  to  do  some  shopping,  and  then  I  came 
on  here.  After  lunch  I  went  out  with  Eve,  who  is 
well  and  in  very  good  spirits.  We  explored  every- 
where, and  we  made  a  large  bonfire.  We  then  got  some 
bread  and  butter,  some  butter  and  some  potatoes  (raw), 
and  we  cooked  the  potatoes  in  the  embers,  and  had  a 
delicious  meal  ...  in  the  woods.  I  have  been  playing 
the  pianola  here,  which  works  by  clockwork,  but  you 
pedal  to  make  the  sound.  Ruth  has  got  a  motor-bike 
on  which  she  is  going  to  Crabbet  to-morrow.  I  rode  it 
up  and  down  the  drive;  it  is  just  like  an  ordinary  bike, 
except  that  it  carries  you  along!  .  .  . 

It  seems  so  strange  to  be  here  without  you !  I  wish 
you  were  here  too.  The  place  is  as  it  was  last  year. 
I  am  enjoying  myself  immensely.  I  expect  the  play 
will  come  off  well.  Eve  is  the  Emperor,  and  Anthony 
the  hero  I  I  have  to  drink  poisoned  coffee  (instead  of 
poisoned  wine,  as  was  previously  arranged).  Mrs. 
Sidgwick  is  here.  She  is  happy  and  cheerful.  Beloe^ 
said  my  report  was  excellent.  I  did  not  get  my  remove, 
as  there  were  only  five,  but  I  was  first  in  my  division 
for  both  maths,  and  French.  Beloe's  parting  words  to 
me  were,  "I  am  very  pleased  with  you.  You  have 
done  well." 

P.S. — Mum  I!  Telegram  just  arrived.^  God  bless 
Augustus  Henry.  We  are  all  so  delighted.  I  am  so 
pleased  he  has  arrived.  Your  four  children!  I  am 
wildly  excited.     Love  to  all. 

^His  first  House  Master. 

'Announcing  the  birth  of  his  youngest  brother,  afterwards  known 
in  the  family  as  "The  Wise  One." 


WINCHESTER  151 

July  20/A,  1913. 

Dear  Mum, — In  the  combined  term  order  I  am 
first.  This  means  first  in  everything  except  exams, 
(which  begin  to-morrow),  and  I  shall  be  first  alto- 
gether if  I  do  well  in  them!  I  am  revising  hard,  so 
that  I  may  do  well,  as  exams,  count  a  good  deal.  I 
have  been  reading  Lamb's  "Essays  of  Elia";  some 
of  them  are  very  amusing. 

The  table  I  am  making  is  practically  finished,  and 
looks  superb.  Monte  came  into  carpenter's  shop  the 
other  day  and  admired  it  and  turned  it  upside  down  to 
examine  it  all  over.  Well,  dear  Mum,  you  are  con- 
stantly in  my  thoughts.    Much  love  from  your  loving 

Cruff. 

Chamounix,  August  30M,  1913. 
Dear  Mother, — These  are  a  few  Alpine  flowers  I 
gathered  for  you  at  the  Mer  de  Glace.  I  hope  most  of 
them  will  be  alive  when  they  reach  you.  There  was 
a  thunderstorm  yesterday  over  Mont  Blanc,  the  light- 
ning flashing  down  upon  it,  and  there  was  lightning  in 
the  sky  too,  in  another  place,  most  vivid  flashes  light- 
ing up  the  sky.  It  is  a  wonderful  sight !  I  walked  on 
the  Mer  de  Glace  yesterday;  it  was  just  like  a  sea  sud- 
denly frozen,  and  is  quite  solid  to  walk  upon,  but  oc- 
casionally you  hear  it  creaking.  The  mountains  are 
wonderful,  and  I  feel  their  power  when  I  see  them. 
I  appreciate  their  character  so  immensely.  Everything 
is  so  delightful  here,  and  the  people  are  so  intelligent. 
Love  to  my  Brothers!    Your  loving 

Cruff. 


152  CHRISTOPHER 

Aged  i6.  October  \2th,  1913. 

My  very  dear  Mother, — Thank  you  so  much  for 
the  I  OS.  you  sent  me.  I  should  like  to  choose  something 
with  you  when  we  meet  on  December  1st.  I  feel  a 
great  responsibility  when  I  realise  I  am  16,  and  I  hope 
I  shall  be  able  to  do  my  best  in  my  work,  of  whatever 
sort  it  may  be. 

I  felt  that  you  were  especially  near  me  on  my  birth- 
day, and  I  am  glad  each  birthday  when  I  think  as  I 
grow  up  I  can  be  more  and  more  of  a  companion  to  you. 
The  outward  routine  of  life  seems  so  trivial,  yet  it  is 
serious  in  itself,  but  I  think  it  is  hard  to  use  one's 
opportunities  well.  Well,  dear  Mother,  the  days  are 
passing,  one  just  like  the  other,  except  that  I  progress 
steadily  in  my  work.  But  life  is  well  worth  the  strug- 
gle.   You  know  the  line  of  "Ulysses" : 

"To  strive,  to  seek,  to  find,  and  not  to  yield!" 

I  feel  that  I  am  helped  by  those  I  love,  whether  near 
or  far.  My  beloved  mother,  to  you  above  all  are  due 
my  gratitude  and  love. — Your  loving  firstborn, 

Christopher. 

October  l^th^  IQIS- 
All  is  well  here.    Winter  is  coming  on  fast,  and  the 
weather  has  turned  cold.    I  rejoice  in  my  new  warm 
vests !   I  am  trying  to  enjoy  my  time  here,  and  I  think 
I  succeed  to  a  large  extent. 

I  have  been  appointed  to  the  post  of  Junior  Li- 
brarian; that  is,  I  suggest,  discuss,  and  am  consulted 
about  the  new  books  that  are  now  being  got  for  House 
Library.     Everybody  pays  is.  a  term  to  the  Library, 


WINCHESTER  153 

so  we  have  enough  money  to  buy  quite  a  lot  of  books 
a  year. 

November  ^.tk,  1913. 

Dearest  Mother, — In  the  debate  next  Monday  I 
am  going  to  speak. ^  The  motion  is,  "That  this  House 
approves  of  vivisection,"  and  I  speak  in  favour  of  the 
motion;  that  is,  for  vivisection.  It  is  difficult  to  de- 
fend, because  people  will  say  it  is  cruel,  but  could  you 
send  me  some  points  or  facts  about  it,  serious  or  hu- 
morous, that  would  help  me*? 

All  is  well  here.  I  expect  to  finish  the  bookcase  this 
term;  it  is  progressing  favourably.  I  am  well  and 
happy,  and  my  exam,  is  to-morrow,  and  on  Saturday 
we  have  "viva  voce"  up  to  Monte ! 

Much  love,  dear  mother. — Your  affectionate 

Cruff. 

November  12/^,  1913. 
My  speech  was  quite  a  success,  though  one  or  two  of 
my  points  had  been  mentioned.  I  had  plenty  to  say, 
and  though  I  felt  nervous  I  got  on  all  right,  and  heard 
that  my  speech  was  good !  Each  speaker  goes  up  to  a 
large  round  table  at  which  the  President  and  Vice- 
President  and  Treasurer  are  seated.  Paget  is  Vice- 
President,  and  spoke  well.  The  motion  was  carried  by 
eight  votes.  I  hope  I  convinced  eight  people!  No 
good  speeches  were  made  against  it. 

*  At  the  Debating  Society,  open  to  men  in  Sixth  Book  and  Senior 
Part 


154  CHRISTOPHER 

To  HIS  Brother. 

November  igth^  19 13- 
My  dear  Alexander, — To-morrow  is  your  birth- 
day, and  I  am  sending  you  a  present  which  I  do  not 
expect  you  have  yet  received.  May  you  have  a  happy 
birthday !  Four  years  is  a  long  time,  a  great  age  com- 
pared with  dear  Wise  One,  to  whom  give  my  love. 

Yesterday  I  bicycled  to  Southampton,  and  we  got 
into  a  small  steamer,  and  it  rolled  very  much,  and  we 
went  for  a  short  sail ;  then  we  bicycled  back  in  the  dark 
without  lamps!  Southampton  is  twelve  miles  away, 
and  Beloe  went  with  us,  and  we  lunched  in  a  wood. 

Give  my  love  to  dear  Nannie.  God  bless  you  on 
your  fifth  birthday,  and  I  feel  sure  you  are  happy. 
Much  love  from  your  own  Big  Brer, 

Chissifor. 

December  "jth,  1913. 
Dear  Mother, — ^All  well  here.  Exams,  start  next 
Saturday.  I  am  getting  on  well  here  and  enjoying  my- 
self, but  it  is  an  effort  to  work  hard  and  get  up  in  the 
morning !  I  had  a  book  to  read  during  the  term,  a  term 
task,  and  I  have  the  exam,  on  it  on  Tuesday;  it  is 
Kingsley's  "Hypatia," — quite  amusing,  but  it  almost 
spoils  a  book  to  have  to  work  at  it  carefully.  There 
was  an  amusing  debate  the  other  day  on,  "Are  we  bet- 
ter than  our  fathers'?"  The  motion  was  lost  by  six 
votes,  but  I  voted  for  it!  I  "get  up  by  candle-light"* 
now,  but  after  next  Thursday  there  is  no  work  before 
breakfast ! 

*  Stevenson,  "Bed  in  Summer,"  in  "Child's  Garden  of  Verse." 


WINCHESTER  155 

I  have  been  asked  by  one  of  the  Dons  to  "rub 
brasses"  next  holidays,  which  consists  of  getting  a  print 
of  some  brass  figures  on  church  walls  and  floors  by 
rubbing  with  heelball  on  kitchen  paper  put  over  them; 
and  there  are  one  or  two  quite  close  to  Brighton  which 
he  wants  me  to  do,  and  in  the  summer  we  may  have 
an  exhibition  of  them  here!  Knights  in  armour  and 
other  figures  in  brass  can  be  rubbed,  so  as  to  get  the 
imprint  of  them.  All  is  well  here.  I  am  working  hard 
and  I  hope  it  may  not  be  in  vain ! 

December  2lst,  1913. 
I  shall  be  with  you  on  Tuesday.  How  nice  it  is  that 
all  work  for  the  term  is  over  I  I  have  done  quite  well 
in  exams.,  being  first  in  both  the  Greek  papers  (Euri- 
pides and  Demosthenes)  with  some  ease,  and  second 
in  Gibbon's  "History,"  and  quite  high  in  the  Latin 
papers,  so  with  luck  I  ought  to  get  a  remove. 

The  Christmas  holidays  this  year  were  spent  at 
Brighton,  where  his  parents  had  taken  a  house  for  the 
winter.  The  strange  beauty  of  the  Downs — so  unlike 
their  own  Glamorganshire  country — appealed  strongly 
to  the  family  party,  and  long  expeditions  by  motor  were 
made  in  every  direction.  Near  home,  the  little  church 
of  Rottingdean  with  its  lovely  Burne-Jones  windows 
became  a  favourite  haunt,  and  happy  but  laborious 
days  were  spent  in  obtaining  "rubbings"  for  the  forth- 
coming exhibition  of  church  brasses  to  be  held  at  Win- 
chester. New  Shoreham,  Goring,  and  the  Fitzalan 
Chapel  at  Arundel  Castle,  where  no  less  than  six  rub- 


156  CHRISTOPHER 

bings  were  made  in  one  day,  yielded  fine  examples  of 
early  brass  work,  the  rubber  becoming  more  and  more 
expert  as  time  went  on. 

January  22nd ^  19H- 
Dearest  Mother, — Your  letter,  which  arrived 
this  morning,  was  a  great  comfort  to  me.  There  is  one 
new  man,  and  I  am  in  the  same  bed  and  toys.  Monro 
is  Scotch,  a  good  scholar  and  teacher.  I  like  him  and 
have  been  getting  on  well  with  him,  and  my  work  is 
interesting.  The  Bin^  was  raptured  with  our  rubbings, 
and  insisted  on  opening  them.  He  said  they  were  very 
good.  He  also  tells  me  that  though  none  of  the  rub- 
bings have  yet  been  mounted,  he  himself,  aided  by 
rubbers,  has  determined  to  cut  out  and  mount  on  can- 
vas all  the  rubbings  for  the  Exhibition,  as  he  says  they 
look  very  much  nicer.  He  showed  me  some  other  rub- 
bings, and  the  best  one  of  all  was  a  very  black  one  done 
near  here,  but  ours  are  a  good  deal  better  than  most. 
The  Bin  says  we  can  have  the  rubbings  back;  how 
nice  they  will  look  in  the  billiard  room ! — Your  loving 

Cruff. 

March  22nd,  1914- 
Dear  Mother, — ^All  is  well  here,  but  there  is  no 
news  to  tell  you.  I  am  well  and  happy  and  look  for- 
ward to  the  end  of  the  term  very  much.  I  read  this 
morning,  in  Mob.  Lib.,  Fred's  essay  on  Virgil.^  We 
have  read  it  together,  and  I  enjoyed  it  very  much; 
it  is  so  wonderful.  I  am  sorry  to  see  ominous  prepa- 
rations going  on  about  Ulster.  I  hope  there  will  not 
be  a  war.    How  is  it  that  it  is  so  fascinating  and  so 

^Mr.  Robinson. 

*  Frederic  Myers,  "Classical  Essays." 


WINCHESTER  157 

enjoyable  to  read  about  war  in  things  like  Homer  and 
Virgil,  and  yet  war  itself  is  really  so  terrible  I  Give 
my  love  to  Alexander  and  the  noble  Wise  One.  As 
Juvenal  says.  Maxima  dehetur  puero  reverential  Good 
night,  dear  mother. — Your  loving 

Cruff. 

Cambridge^  April  2Sth,  1914. 
Dearest  Mother, — It  was  sad  to  have  to  part 
from  you  this  morning,  and  I  do  miss  you  so  much. 
This  afternoon  I  went  to  Ely  ^  and  saw  the  Cathedral, 
which  I  much  enjoyed,  but  they  were  tuning  the  organ 
most  of  the  time,  which  was  rather  tiresome.  I  went 
up  the  octagonal  tower  and  saw  the  towers  of  King's 
in  the  distance.  ...  I  am  still  doing  jigsaws;  they  dis- 
tract the  mind  frOTn  anything  else.  I  long  to  be  at 
Cambridge;  Winchester  seems  dull  and  monotonous 
compared  with  it.  Everything  is  so  delightful  here. 
I  have  had  such  a  happy  holiday  that  it  makes  it  hard 
for  me  going  back.  I  am  so  lonely  without  you. — 
Your  loving 

Cruff. 

Winchester^  May  14/A,  1914. 
This  afternoon  Gustave  Hamel,  a  famous  aviator, 
came  here  to  fly,  and  most  of  the  school  went  to  see 
him.  I  went,  and  was  much  excited  to  see  him  rise 
up,  and  especially  "loop  the  loop" ;  that  is,  turn  upside 
down  in  the  air  and  let  the  aeroplane  dive  right  down, 
and  then  it  rights  itself.  It  was  most  exciting,  and  he 
played  all  sorts  of  tricks  in  the  air. 

^  His  great-great-grandfather,  Dr.  Pearce,  was  Dean  of  Ely  in 
1797.  He  was  also  Master  of  the  Temple  and  Master  of  Jesus 
College,   Cambridge. 


158  CHRISTOPHER 

I  had  a  long  talk  yesterday  about  my  work  with 
Monro  (I  told  him  I  was  Fred's^  nephew,  which  inter- 
ested him).  He  says  it  is  most  important  I  should  get 
my  remove  this  term,  as  in  the  next  division  I  should 
get  personal  supervision  and  be  under  a  really  fine 
scholar.  It  is  most  important  I  should  do  this,  as  I 
have  only  eighteen  months  till  the  scholarship.^  He 
thinks  I  have  a  good  chance  for  it  if  I  work,  so  I  must 
do  my  utmost  to  get  a  remove  into  Mr.  Carter's  divi- 
sion. We  chiefly  talked  about  technicalities  in  my 
work.    How  hard  it  is  to  work  well  in  hot  weather! 

Your  Suffrage  work  interests  me  always.  I  find  how 
people  confuse  any  Suffragist  opinion  with  militancy. 
I  had  a  long  talk  with  our  butler  (Witty)  on  the 
subject.  He  thinks  it  would  be  all  right  if  propertied 
women  had  a  vote,  but  he  "doesn't  want  to  see  women 
in  Parliament,"  which,  he  thinks,  would  be  the  swift 
outcome  of  Suffrage.  Also,  a  boy  tells  me  Suffrage  in 
Australia  is  quite  a  failure.  I  said  I  believed  it  was 
otherwise!  How  terrible  this  liner  disaster  must  be 
for  the  relations  and  friends  of  those  who  perished! 
I  am  now  reading  "John  Bull's  other  Island"  for  the 
third  time;  it  is  most  delightful. 

To  HIS  Grandmother,  Mrs.  Tennant 

Winchester^  May  2oM,  1914. 
Dearest  Grandmama, — Your  delightful  and  re- 
freshing letter  reached  me  this  morning;  all  you  say 
interests  me. 

*  Frederic  Myers. 

'He   had   decided   to  try   for    a   scholarship   at  Trinitjr   College, 
Cambridge. 


WINCHESTER  159 

Yes ;  I  think,  though  one  has  periods  of  great  happi- 
ness, life  is  a  struggle,  and  we  climb  one  mountain  only 
to  find  another  in  front  of  us.  Perhaps  you  know 
those  comforting  lines  of  Clough: 

"Say  not  the  struggle  nought  availeth. 
The  labour  and  the  wounds  are  vain.  .  .  .*' 

People  often  say,  "Oh,  you  have  your  life  in  front  of 
you" ;  but  I  feel  it  is  a  responsibility  to  make  the  best 
of  it.  There  must  be  some  satisfaction  in  having  most 
of  one's  life  behind  one. 

I  have  not  written  any  poetry  lately — one  cannot  sit 
down  and  compose  it  laboriously — it  must  come  by  in- 
spiration. The  power  to  thinks  and  to  think  well,  is  a 
rare  gift;  many  people  seem  very  callous  and  indiffer- 
ent to  the  intellectual  things  of  life.    However, 

"If  they  appear  untouched  by  solemn  thought, 
Their  nature  is  not  therefore  less  divine." 

And  what  a  lot  of  delightful  people  there  are  in  the 
world !  It  is  a  great  gift  to  be  able  to  see  the  best  in 
people — there  always  is  a  best! 

I  am  hard  at  work  here,  and  do  not  find  much  time 
for  reading  novels.  I  have  been  reading  a  play  of 
Bernard  Shaw's  lately — I  think  he  is  always  so  de- 
lightful, and  I  am  very  fond  of  his  excellent  plays. 
I  have  been  playing  cricket  a  good  deal  lately — I  really 
enjoy  it  now. 

To-morrow  being  Ascension  Day,  we  get  a  whole 
holiday,  which  is  something  to  look  forward  to. 

Canon  Henson,  who  used  to  be  at  St.  Margaret's, 
is  coming  to  preach  here  this  term — he  is  the  finest 
preacher  I  have  ever  heard. 


160  CHRISTOPHER 

Well,  I  must  say  good-bye  now;  it  will  be  most 
delightful  to  see  you  all  on  June  2nd.  I  always  enjoy 
my  day  in  London  tremendously. 

Good-night,  and  God  bless  you. — Ever  your  loving 
friend,^ 

Christopher  Tennant. 

June  "jtli^  1914- 
Dearest  Mother, — So  glad  my  bike  has  arrived. 
I  shall  enjoy  unpacking  it  myself  when  I  arrive.  Your 
Suffrage  work  must  be  tryingly  difficult  in  some  ways 
— canvassing  and  the  like — but  you  will  look  back  to 
it  with  intense  pride  when  the  Suffrage  Movement  has 
achieved  its  object.  No  doubt,  in  your  work,  as  in 
mine,  there  is  a  great  deal  that  is  enjoyable. 

I  have  only  been  twice  to  Gathers  since  I  have  been 
back,  but  next  holiday  I  am  free,  I  have  been  intending 
to  go  and  hear  the  anthem  at  4  o'clock.  I  have  been 
playing  cricket  so  much  lately,  but  I  hope  to  go  next 
week;  another  boy  advised  me  and  said  he  had  been; 
the  same  who  is  under  the  delusion  about  Australian 
Suffrage  [having  been  a  failure].  He  is  a  pre- 
fect!!! ... 

God  bless  you,  dear  mother,  we  must  each 
"Lay  his  uphill  shoulder  to  the  wheel." 

I  am  progressing  every  day. — Your  loving 

Cruff. 

Lionel  Ford,  Head  Master  of  Harrow,  preached  to- 
day— a  good  sermon. 

^This  designation  was  adopted  as  the  result  of  a  suggestion  by  his 
grandmother,  who  felt  the  intellectual  link  between  them  an  even 
stronger  tie  than  that  of  blood  relationship. 


WINCHESTER  161 

I  am  now  reading  "John  Bull's  Other  Island"  for 
the  third  time;  it  is  most  delightful. 

June  l^th^  1914- 
Dearest  Mother, — It  has  been  such  a  joy  having 
Deedooge^  here  for  the  last  two  days.  We  had  a  most 
delightful  time  together,  and  we  both  enjoyed  our- 
selves tremendously.  I  showed  him  the  places  of  in- 
terest in  the  College  and  the  Exhibition  of  Brasses, 
which  was  a  great  success.  Mine  were  beautiful  I  We 
also  watched  the  match  against  Eton,  which  was  really 
most  exciting,  and  ended  in  a  draw ;  there  was  not  time 
to  finish  the  match,  but  if  there  had  been  we  should 
probably  have  won  I  However,  you  cannot  tell,  and 
the  result  was  considered  a  draw  not  especially  in 
cither's  favour.  There  were  thousands  of  people  here 
for  the  Eton  match,  as  nearly  everybody  had  some 
friends  down,  and  we  had  brilliant  weather;  we  get 
whole  holidays  those  two  days — very  delightful. 

Farewell,  dear  mother.  I  hope  you  are  getting  on 
well  with  your  Suffrage  work.  On  Eton  match  day  I 
saw  a  girl  with  your  colours  selling  "The  Common 
Cause"  ^  here.  I  was  overjoyed,  and  said  to  her,  "I 
am  delighted  to  see  you  here."  The  first  appearance  of 
Suffrage  in  Winchester! — Your  loving  ^ 

Llandrzndod  Wells,  July  $oth,  IQH- 
I  arrived  here  safely  yesterday,  and  am  very  happy 
with  Gaggi.^    It  was  a  triumph  getting  my  remove — 

*  Childish  nickname  for  his  Father. 

*The   weekly   paper   issued    by   the    National    Union    of   Women's 
Suffrage   Societies. 
*His  maternal  grandmother. 


162  CHRISTOPHER 

such  a  reward  for  my  work,  and  makes  all  my  labour 
worth  while!  I  was  in  great  suspense  until  I  knew  I 
was  all  right.  I  am  in  the  Lower  Sixth  now — I  shall 
be  under  a  Mr.  Carter,  a  great  classical  scholar,  who 
adores  classics  and  makes  his  pupils  work  hard. 

We  are  going  this  afternoon  to  Elan  Valley  water- 
works, and  I  look  forward  to  my  run  back  in  the  car 
to  Cadoxton  on  Wednesday.  .  .  .  This  is  a  lovely 
place,  and  I  am  enjoying  myself. 

Winchester^  September  l8/^,  1914. 

Dearest  Mother, — I  have  passed  my  Certificate 
(by  which  I  am  exempt  from  Little-Go)  and  the  extra 
subjects  for  Cambridge,  having  taken  extra  mathe- 
matics and  Scripture  included  in  my  certificate.  Now, 
therefore,  I  can  devote  more  time  to  classics.  I  like 
Mr.  Carter;  he  is  very  interesting;  but  the  work  is 
hard — ^not  too  hard.  I  shall  be  doing  Greek  iambics, 
Greek  prose,  and  Latin  prose  or  verse  all  in  a  week. 
In  my  division  we  do  only  one  Greek  book  at  a  time; 
we  are  doing  the  Antigone  of  Sophocles.  I  have  only 
time  to  say  how  much  I  miss  you,  and  how  every  year 
I  do  feel  that  you  are  with  me  in  the  spirit — distance 
cannot  separate  this. 

Farewell,  dearest. — Your  loving 

Cruff, 

October  2^tk,  1914. 

The  terrible  war  seems  to  be  dragging  on.    Hilaire 

Belloc  lectured  here  last  week,  and  he  said  everything 

depended  upon  the  result  of  the  battle  on  the  Vistula. 

Also  he  thought  there  was  going  to  be  a  big  smash-up 


WINCHESTER  163 

soon.  I  am  getting  on  in  my  work;  we  are  getting 
through  the  Antigone;  it  is  very  fine.  I  also  do  Plato 
and  Herodotus  "unseen."  I  did  so  enjoy  seeing  you 
at  Fisher's  Hill.  I  went  out  to  tea  to-day  with  May 
Carter,  the  sister  of  my  master,  Frank  Carter,  and  had 
a  very  pleasant  time  there.  They  have  a  very  nice 
house  the  other  side  of  the  Cathedral,  with  a  lovely 
view  from  it. 

June  ^th^  1915- 
Dearest  Mother, — I  hope  all  is  well  with  you; 
I  have  not  much  news  to  tell  you,  except  to  suggest  a 
plan  which  occurred  to  me.  It  is  now  drawing  near 
the  time  of  my  examination,  which  is  in  November, 
and  I  suggest  I  should  leave  Winchester  at  the  end  of 
this  term  (which  I  should  not  be  very  sorry  to  do), 
and  that  I  should  have  a  month  or  so's  coaching  for 
my  scholarship,  which  would  give  me  more  chance  of 
getting  one — I  do  not  know  if  I  am  doing  the  right 
sort  of  work  here  for  it.  Then  my  exam,  would  be  in 
November,  and  I  could  spend  the  time  before  I  actu- 
ally go  to  Trinity  with  you,  instead  of  being  here  at 
Winchester.  I  shall  soon  be  18,  and  I  do  not  think  I 
should  much  miss  being  here.  You  know,  mother,  we 
see  so  very  little  of  each  other  as  things  are,  and  there 
are  lots  of  things  we  could  do  together,  if  we  had  time. 
— Ever  your  loving 

A  Cruff. 

Aged  17. 

To  show  that  the  daily  round  was  not  all  couleur  de 
rose^  and  to  give  a  faithful  picture  of  life  in  his  House, 
some  indication  of  other  sides  ought  to  be  given — sides 
which  often  trouble  parents,  though  in  deference  to 


164  CHRISTOPHER 

ancient  custom  they  try  to  make  light  of  them.  Ac- 
cordingly the  following  extracts  from  three  letters  writ- 
ten early  in  June,  1915,  by  Christopher  to  his  Mother 
are  here  quoted: 

"I  entirely  agree  with  what  you  say;  I  think  it  is 
best  that  I  should  stick  on  here  for  the  present,  though 
I  am  not  very  happy  here,  and  often  feel  very  lonely — 
there  is  no  sort  of  intellectual  companionship  with  the 
boys  in  my  house,  who  for  the  most  part  dislike  and 
despise  those  who  care  for  such  things.  ...  I  assure 
you  my  life  here  is  not  a  happy  one,  but  I  know  things 
will  be  better  next  term,  and  I  do  not  despair;  but  I 
only  tell  you  this  because  you  know  what  a  relief  it  is 
to  tell  one's  sorrow  to  anyone  who  will  sympathise.  .  .  . 
I  do  not  say  I  have  no  friends.  They  are  rather  ac- 
quaintances and  no  more.  You  can  imagine  a  large 
number  of  boys  who  loathe  work,  and  who  when 
massed  together  become  somewhat  animal-like.  It  is 
the  loneliness  I  have  been  in  that  has  brought  me  into 
disfavour,  especially  as  there  are  a  large  number  of 
rough  boys.  They  have  for  the  most  part  some  vir- 
tues, but  are  rough,  and  readily  resort  to  measures  of 
violence.  These  measures  would  be  more  correctly 
described  as  one  or  two  incidents  by  which  some  who 
are  not  my  friends  showed  their  spitefulness.  It  will 
perhaps  help  if  I  tell  you  that  this  is  a  very  rowdy 
house  at  present.  Bullying  has  always  gone  on  to  some 
degree  (not  of  me),  as  in  all  Public  Schools.  I  have 
not  said  anything  at  all  to  annoy,  but  I  have  always 
kept  more  or  less  myself  to  myself.  I  have  thrown  my 
whole  keenness  into  my  work.   The  prefects  are  as  fol- 


WINCHESTER  165 

lows:  three  mediocre  and  impartial,  one  rowdy  and 
hostile  (only  mentally),  and  one  who  is  unutterably 
weak  and  has  no  authority.     The  upper  part  of  the 
house  (just  below  the  prefects)  can  do  more  or  less 
what  they  like  without  interference  from  prefects,  who 
probably  know  that  these  upper  boys  hold  me  in  dis- 
favour.   I  mean  that  they  do  not  persecute  me,  but  as 
a  rule  ignore  me.    This  I  like.   I  am  a  good  deal  alone, 
and  then  I  am  happy.  ...    I  will  only  add  that  I  do 
not  know  nor  can  I  find  out  who  has  committed  these 
acts  of  hostility — trifles  in  themselves  some  of  them. 
I  will  illustrate:  I  do  not  know  who  threw  my  books 
on  the  floor  and  poured  my  own  ink  and  brilliantine 
and  glue  on  them :  who  tore  in  half  a  new  tie  I  had  not 
yet  worn,  who  broke  the  glass  of  my  picture  frames, 
who  broke  up  a  wooden  stand  for  writing-paper  I  had, 
who  smeared  my  hair-brushes,  one  pair  with  ink,  an- 
other with  leather  polish.    Nor  do  I  know  who  poured 
coloured  inks  on  to  my  best  white  tennis  shoes,  who 
poured  nasty  smelling  chemicals  into  my  cushion  so 
that  it  had  to  be  thrown  away,  who  removed  my  elec- 
tric globe  so  that  I  have  to  use  candles,  who  broke  the 
front  magnifying  glass  of  my  gold  watch.    Such  things 
may  seem  but  trifles  and  would  be  ludicrous  if  they 
were  not  very  tiresome.    If  I  am  a  prefect  next  term, 
which  is  very  probable,  I  shall  at  least  have  comfort 
and  peace.    As  it  is,  no  one  affects  my  work :  I  prepare 
it  in  Mob.  Lib.,^  and  so  do  no  work  in  my  house  ex- 
cept preparation  in  the  evening.   I  have  told  you  every- 
thing.   I  do  not  think  many  boys  confide  school  trou- 

*The  School  Library. 


166  CHRISTOPHER 

bles  to  their  mothers,  but  I  am  glad  I  have  done  so  to 
you,  as  you,  I  know,  would  always  understand." 

A  letter  from  his  House  Master,  Mr.  A.  E.  Wilson, 
written  in  June,  1915,  in  answer  to  a  letter  from  Chris- 
topher's Mother  (it  need  hardly  be  said  that  the  boy 
remained  in  complete  ignorance  both  of  her  letter  and 
of  the  reply)  shows  that  he  was  fully  aware  of  the 
facts  of  the  case,  and  that  he  sympathised  warmly  with 
the  boy,  although  he  did  not  "conform  to  type" :  indeed, 
he  took  strong  measures  to  stop  the  trouble. 

Writing  with  full  sympathy  and  understanding,  he 
admits  that  "the  general  tone  of  the  House  is  em- 
phatically not  intellectual.  ...  I  have  a  set  of  big 
men  who  are  pure  Philistines,  with  whom  Christopher 
would  never  get  on,  and  who  are  incapable  of  making 
allowance  for  a  person  of  Christopher's  temperament 
and  tastes.  Most  of  them  are  leaving  this  term,  and  I 
think  Christopher  will  be  happier  next  term.  It  would 
be  a  very  great  pity  for  him  to  leave  now.  He  is  do- 
ing very  good  work  and  making  most  satisfactory 
progress,  and  his  Division  Master,  Mr.  Carter,  is  very 
pleased  with  him.  I  wish  I  could  write  in  a  more 
comforting  way  about  him ;  but  it  is  better  to  be  quite 
frank  as  to  what  I  think." 

It  should  be  noted  that  the  relation  between  Chris- 
topher and  his  House  Master  had  always  been  and  re- 
mained to  the  end  an  entirely  friendly  one.  That  the 
older  man  understood  and  appreciated  the  boy  is  shown 
by  the  following  extract  from  a  letter  written  by  him 


WINCHESTER  167 

to  Christopher's  mother  on  hearing  of  her  son's  death 
in  action: — 

"Christopher  was  such  an  attractive  personality, 
and  I  am  sure  I  can  fully  endorse  what  Lord  Harlech 
wrote — that  we  can  ill  afford  to  lose  such  young  men 
as  he  now.  He  was  always  an  influence  for  good 
wherever  he  was,  and  had  such  a  sane  outlook  that 
one  had  hoped  for  a  distinguished  career  for  him." 

June  Tlnd^  19 1 5- 
I  was  very  sorry  to  part  from  you  this  morning, 
but  we  have  had  such  a  delicious  time  together;  I 
am  so  glad  you  came,  and  you  managed  to  get  a  lot  in 
in  two  days.  I  look  forward  to  your  coming  down  here 
again :  your  visit  has  made  everything  so  much  brighter 
for  me,  and  all  the  places  round  about  have  sweet 
memories  of  our  happy  time  together.  I  hope  you  ar- 
rived safely  at  Cadoxton,  and  caught  your  train  com- 
fortably. I  spent  the  afternoon  with  Gilbert  Murray 
in  Mob.  Lib.,  and  finished  the  book.  ...  It  was  de- 
licious your  being  here,  and  a  very  good  idea  of  yours 
to  come.  I'm  so  glad  you  are  on  the  Executive;^  it  is 
splendid. — Farewell,  dear  mother. 

June  l^th^  1915- 
All  well  here.  I  talked  to  Frank  Carter  yesterday 
about  my  scholarship;  he  thinks  I  have  got  quite  a 
good  chance.  He  said  that  examinations  always  de- 
pended on  various  things,  such  as  whether  one  is  on 
one's  day  at  the  time,  and  also  on  the  examiners.  He 
said  that  when  he  used  to  be  a  master  at  St.  Paul's 

'  His  mother   had   been   recently   elected   to   the   Executive   of   the 
National    Union   of  Wonnen's   Suffrage   Societies. 


168  CHRISTOPHER 

he  used  to  send  up  a  good  many  people  to  Trinity  for 
scholarships,  and  he  never  knew  of  any  case  in  which 
the  examiners  had  made  a  mistake — they  never  failed 
to  take  the  good  and  reject  bad  people.  He  said  that 
was  owing  to  the  fact  that  Trinity  had  a  large  number 
of  Fellows,  and  that  the  papers  were  looked  over  by  at 
least  three  different  examiners  to  get  the  fairest  results. 
He  also  said  that  I  was  up  to  the  standard  of  scholar- 
ship, and  that  I  ought  to  have  some  coaching  in  the 
holidays,  but  that  it  would  not  be  easy  to  find  any- 
one. I  also  talked  to  Monro  about  it,  and  he  said  that 
it  would  be  difficult  to  get  coaching  in  the  holidays. 
He  (Monro)  said  I  could  try  for  the  scholarship  again 
in  March  if  I  failed  in  November,  and  that  I  could 
try  again  as  often  as  I  liked,  after  I  had  gone  up  to 
Cambridge. 

Llandrindod  Wells,  July  2gth,  19 1 5' 
Dearest  Mother, — You  will  have  heard  from 
C.C.T.  about  my  remove  into  the  top  division.  I  am 
now  in  the  first  twenty  of  the  whole  School.  Also  that 
I  am  going  to  be  a  Prefect  next  term.  Carter  has  told 
me  what  he  advises  me  to  do  in  the  holidays;  he  said 
I  must  not  do  too  much  work.  I  have  got  the  books 
with  me;  the  work  he  advised  is  to  read  Homer's 
Odyssey  without  looking  up  the  words,  but  read  it 
straight  through  like  a  novel,  and  that  after  I  had  read 
a  thousand  lines  or  so  it  would  be  just  like  reading 
Shakespeare.  ...  I  am  enjoying  myself  here;  the  air 
is  most  refreshing.  It  is  a  great  relief  to  get  out  of 
Winchester  after  having  been  there  so  long,  and  to  be 
able  to  take  a  good  rest. 

Ever  your  loving  Cruff. 


WINCHESTER  169 

Winchester,  September  1'^rd,  1915- 
All  is  well  here.      I  am  working  at  nothing  but 
classics,  except  for  two  hours'  history  a  week — which  I 
cannot  avoid. 

I  have  become  a  member  of  the  Shakespeare  Society 
at  the  President's  invitation.  The  President  is  Monte^ 
himself,  and  the  Society  is  called  S.R.O.G.U.S.  The 
letters  mean  Shakespeare  Reading,  etc.,  Society,  and 
we  go  and  read  a  play  of  Shakespeare's,  each  taking  a 
part  and  reading  it.  This  will  be  very  exciting,  and 
it  is  such  a  nice  way  to  read  Shakespeare.  It  is  still 
quite  warm  weather  here.  I  do  most  of  my  work  with 
Monte  and  Rackam,  and  some  with  M.  du  Pontet.  I 
have  only  played  one  game  of  football  since  I  got  back. 
The  house  is  very  peaceful,  and  everything  is  running 
smoothly. 

Aged   i8.  October  loth,  1915.^ 

Dearest  Mother, — Thank  you  so  much  for  the 
beautiful  Japanese  print  you  sent  me.  I  have  put  it 
up  in  my  toys,  and  it  looks  beautiful  there;  many  peo- 
ple to  whom  I  have  shown  it  admired  it  very  much  and 
were  surprised  at  it.  I  like  the  sea  and  those  delicious 
hills.  It  is  quite  a  joy  for  ever  to  me,  and  gives  me 
pleasure  whenever  I  look  at  it.  .  .  . 

It  seems  strange  to  me  to  be  18 1  I  remember  a  birth- 
day so  well  at  Cadoxton  I  had  when  I  was  8,  and  it 
seems  quite  a  short  time  ago.  All  well  here.  We  had 
our  Shakespeare  reading  last  night.  We  read  the  Merry 
Wives  of  Windsor,  and  I  was  "Slender."  Monte  said 
to  me  that  I  read  very  well!     We  all  enjoyed  it  so 

*The  Head  Master. 

*  His  eighteenth  birthday. 


170  CHRISTOPHER 

much.    I  talked  to  Duff  about  Cambridge.    Farewell. 
— Ever  your  loving 

Cruff. 

October  2>oth,  1915. 

Dearest  Mother, — I  am  writing  to  wish  you  many 
happy  returns  of  your  birthday.  I  send  you  a  little 
lacquer  tray  which  I  got  here;  it  may  be  useful  to 
you,  and  I  think  it  is  old. 

All  well  here.  I  am  going  on  Monday,  leave-out 
day,  home  with  Wallop  to  Hurstboume,  where  I  shall 
meet  Lord  Portsmouth.^  I  shall  be  very  happy  to 
spend  Christmas  at  Cadoxton.  I  go  up  to  Cambridge 
on  December  6th,  and  stay  there  till  December  ilth — 
just  that  week.  I  am  getting  on  well  here,  and  am 
very  happy  and  enjoying  myself — we  prefects  are  all 
very  united.  We  have  fires  every  day  now,  all  the  day 
long,  in  the  Prefects'  library :  it  is  much  easier  to  work 
when  warm  and  comfortable — in  spite  of  X.'s  main- 
taining the  exact  opposite  of  this!  Well,  dearest 
Mother,  God  bless  you,  and  farewell :  I  hope  you  will 
have  a  happy  birthday. — Ever  your  loving 

Cruff. 

November  21st,  1915- 
The  time  of  my  exam,  is  drawing  near  now,  and  on 
December  6th  I  go  to  Cambridge;  I  do  not  know  ex- 
actly what  I  shall  do  when  I  get  there,  but  I  suppose 
Ernest  Harrison  will  tell  me.  .  .  .  We  had  a  lecture 
by  a  man  in  the  school  to  the  Archseological  Society 
this  morning,  and  I  was  asked  to  go,  though  I  do  not 

^A  Balliol  friend  of  his  father's. 


WINCHESTER  171 

belong  to  the  Society;  it  was  very  interesting — about 
Chinese  art.  He  knows  someone  at  the  British  Mu- 
seum, and  had  got  down  a  crate  of  ancient  Chinese 
porcelains  and  bronzes — very  beautiful  things.  Morn- 
ing lines,  the  hour  we  do  before  breakfast,  has  changed 
from  7  to  7.30,  and  so  we  get  more  sleep. 

Trinity  College^  Cambridge,  December  6th,  1915. 

Dearest  Mother, — I  arrived  here  safely  this  after- 
noon and  found  your  letter  waiting  for  me :  I  have  got 
very  nice  rooms  on  the  ground  floor  in  the  Great  Court. 
When  I  got  here  I  went  to  see  Harrison^:  he  is  very 
pleasant,  and  told  me  all  I  had  to  do.  I  have  two  ex- 
aminations per  day  throughout  the  following  week, 
one  between  breakfast  and  lunch  and  one  between 
lunch  and  tea.  I  go  back  to  Winchester  on  Saturday. 
It  is  very  dark  here  at  night.  It  is  lovely  here:  the 
Great  Court  looks  beautiful,  and  I  have  got  very  nice 
rooms,  a  bedroom  and  a  large  sitting-room,  on  the  left 
of  the  Court  as  you  come  in  at  the  main  entrance. 
There  is  only  one  other  Wykehamist  up  here,  as  far  as 
I  know,  and  he  is  the  son  of  the  Trinity  organist,  so 
he  will  be  with  his  father,  and  I  shall  not  see  much 
of  him. 

Well,  dearest  Mother,  I  hope  I  shall  succeed  in  the 
examination;  they  do  not  give  one  too  much  time  for 
the  papers,  and  I  do  not  go  very  rapidly,  but  I  will  do 
my  best.  After  dinner  this  evening  I  am  going  to  see 
Harrison  again.     All  well  here. — Ever  your  loving 

Cruff. 

*Mr.  E.  Harrison,  Tutor  of  Trinity  College.     See  p.  287. 


172  CHRISTOPHER 

Trinity  College^  Cambridge^  December  "Jth^  1915« 

All  well  here;  I  have  so  far  had  two  papers,  Latin 
verse  and  Latin  translation,  one  this  morning  and  the 
other  this  afternoon.  I  think  I  did  them  all  right,  but 
of  course  I  do  not  know  how  I  compare  with  others. 
The  people  doing  the  examinations  all  look  very 
learned  I 

I  had  a  cup  of  coffee  with  Mr.  Harrison  yesterday 
evening.  He  is  very  nice  and  cheerful,  and  has  got  a 
great  sense  of  humour;  he  asked  me  a  lot  about  Win- 
chester. To-morrow  I  have  two  Greek  papers,  verse 
and  translation.  My  day  is  as  follows,  regularly:  I  am 
called  at  7.30  by  a  bedmaker,  and  breakfast  at  8 
o'clock.  I  have  a  paper  from  9  to  1 1.30  or  12.30,  and 
then  lunch  at  12.30,  and  have  another  paper  from 
1.30  till  4.30.  It  is  dark  at  4.30  now,  and  the  streets 
have  no  lights.  Then  at  7.35  I  have  dinner  in  Trinity 
hall  (the  same  place  as  I  do  the  examinations  in),  all 
the  other  meals  being  in  my  room.  I  have  to  order 
my  own  meals — which  is  a  problem  I  have  never  faced 
before  I 

I  will  write  again  to-morrow. — Ever  your  loving 

Cruff. 

Trinity  College,  Cambridge,  December  Stk,  1915- 

I  went  to  Trinity  Chapel  this  morning  and  copied 

out  the  hymn  for  you,  which  I  send  you.^    I  also  went 

to  King's  Chapel  and  walked  back  along  the  Backs 

of  the  Colleges.    I  hope  all  is  well  with  you.    I  have 

*"When  wilt  Thou  save  the  People?"  by  Ebenezer  Elliot  (1781- 
1849),  a  special  favourite  of  his  which  is  included  in  Trinity  Col- 
lege Hymnal.    See  also  p.  237. 


WINCHESTER  173 

no  news  to  tell  you.    My  holidays  begin  on  Wednes- 
day, December  22nd. 

Of  the  result  of  the  examination  his  House  Master 
wrote  as  follows: — 

"Kingsgate  House,  December  I'^rd,  1915- 
"I  am  sorry  that  Christopher  has  not  got  an  Exhibi- 
tion at  Trinity — he  seems  to  have  gone  very  near  it, 
judging  from  the  letter  he  received  from  his  tutor.  He 
was  apparently  up  against  very  stiff  competition,  for 
the  few  Classical  Scholarships  and  Exhibitions  which 
they  gave.  And  he  has  another  chance  next  year,  when 
I  hope  he  may  be  successful." 

As  the  result  had  not  been  unforeseen,  Christopher 
was  not  greatly  disappointed;  on  the  other  hand,  he 
always  looked  back  with  satisfaction  to  the  chance 
which  had  made  him  an  inmate  of  the  College  for  those 
few  days.  His  name  is  among  those  of  the  members 
of  the  College  who  have  served  in  the  Army  or  the 
Navy  during  the  war.  The  lists  are  at  present  affixed 
to  the  screen  in  the  ante-chapel. 

Winchester,  February  1'^th,  1916. 
I  have  this  time  news  to  tell  you — about  myself.  I 
am  in  bed  with  a  sprained  ankle,  and  have  to  rest  it 
for  two  or  three  days,  so  I  am  having  a  good  rest,  which 
I  enjoy,  and  there  is  no  pain  in  the  ankle  at  all.  I 
put  it  out  of  joint  when  tobogganing  yesterday — we 
managed  to  upset  somehow,  and  my  foot  was  caught 
by  the  toboggan  and  twisted.  However,  I  was  able 
to  walk  home  comfortably,  and  it  was  only  afterwards 


174  CHRISTOPHER 

that  the  joint  began  to  swell  and  grow  stiff.  We  had 
a  delightful  time  tobogganing  on  Hills — there  is  quite 
a  good  run  there,  and  it  was  a  pity  I  hurt  my  ankle  at 
the  end.  We  upset  because  someone  got  right  in  our 
way,  and  the  man  who  was  guiding  swerved  sharply, 
and  so  we  slid  off.  All  I  have  to  do  is  to  keep  my  foot 
up;  it  is  in  a  sort  of  basket  which  prevents  the  bed- 
clothes pressing  on  it.  The  snow  is  deep  here  and 
makes  everything  look  many  times  more  lovely.  I 
have  got  everything  I  want  here — books,  etc. 

March  2nd,  1916 
I  have  enjoyed  this  week  in  bed,  and  it  has  given 
me  time  for  reading.  I  have  read  all  the  Wordsworth 
and  some  Bacon,  and  am  now  deep  in  Chaucer.  I  also 
read  one  or  two  novels  in  between;  to-day  I  read  "Man 
and  Superman"  again — it  is  very  delightful  and 
amusing. 

Two  people  in  other  houses  are  laid  up  with  broken 
ankles — not  serious,  however.  Do  let  us  have  music  at 
Easter;  it  is  so  refreshing,  and  I  often  hunger  for  it 
during  term  time,  sometimes  unconsciously.  Last 
night  at  about  8  o'clock  the  electric  light  got  dimmer 
and  dimmer  and  then  went  out.  We  had  been  warned 
that  this  would  be  an  indication  of  Zeppelins !  So  in 
the  dark — there  was  no  light  anywhere — I  groped,  or 
rather  hopped,  my  way  along  to  the  Matron.  Every- 
one seemed  to  be  rushing  about  with  candles,  but  I 
did  not  use  my  bad  foot  at  all,  and  then  we  heard  there 
was  no  Zeppelin  alarm,  so  I  went  back  to  bed  and  in 
ten  minutes  the  light  went  on  again !  There  is  no  news. 
It  is  nice  having  rest  and  plenty  of  sleep. 


WINCHESTER  175 

May  /i^th,  1916. 

Dearest  Mother, — I  have  made  all  necessary  ar- 
rangements for  doing  French  and  mathematics,  history 
and  geography,  which  the  necessity  of  Sandhurst, 
should  it  arise,  would  entail.  A  good  few  are  in  my 
position  and  think  Sandhurst  best.  .  .  .  For  Sandhurst 
I  have  to  qualify  in  English,  elementary  mathematics, 
French,  history  (1588-1901,  and  "The  British  Em- 
pire"!), geography  (main  features  of  the  world,  and 
especially  colonies),  and  take  also  Latin  and  Greek. 
The  exam,  is  at  the  end  of  June.  I  have  been  made  a 
Commoner  (or  "School"  as  opposed  to  "House")  Pre- 
fect, which  is  a  great  extension  of  power,  and  a  rise  for 
me.    I  have  a  Row  in  Chapel,  etc. 

I  saw  Aunt  Betty^  to-day.  She  was  very  comforting 
and  glad  to  find  me  not  depressed  about  anything.  I 
laid  before  her  my  present  position  with  its  possi- 
bilities. 

I  should  very  much  prefer  the  Welsh  Guards  to  any- 
thing else  myself.  I  am  very  keen  about  the  Welsh 
Guards  now.  I  note  your  letter  re  Lord  Harlech,  and 
have  written  to  him  and  arranged  to  go  on  Tuesday. 
I  have  got  a  letter  of  recommendation  from  Monte. 

Tuesday. 
Dear  Mother, — When  I  got  to  Welsh  Guards 
Headquarters  at  1 1  o'clock  they  told  me  Lord  Harlech 
was  in  Wales  and  that  I  could  see  him  at  3.30.  I  have 
not  seen  him  yet,  but  am  going  to  shortly.  I  went  and 
saw  Westminster  Abbey  and  then  lunched.  I  am  now 
sitting  in  St.  James's  Park  close  to  the  Welsh  Guards 

*Lady  Betty  Balfour.     See  pp.    149   and   285. 


Vre  CHRISTOPHER 

Headquarters,  and  am  going  to  see  Lord  Harlech  at 

3-30. 

(Later.) 

Lord  Harlech  says  I  must  go  to  Sandhurst  and  learn 
the  thing  thoroughly.  He  will  give  me  a  letter  of 
recommendation  and  send  it  to  Winchester. 

May  19/^,  1916. 
Dearest  Mother, — I  have  written  to  you  only  on 
business  lately,  and  now  that  everything  is  settled  I 
do  feel  so  deeply  grateful  to  you  for  all  you  have  done 
about  my  going  into  the  Welsh  Guards.  As  I  have  got 
to  be  a  soldier,  that  is  best.  Personally  I  do  not  think 
it  will  be  at  all  an  unpleasant  experience — for  a  few 
years.  My  classics  may  get  rusty,  and  them  I  shall  rub 
up  easily — and  I  shall  never  cease  to  care  for  the  right 
things — Browning,  and  the  Alps,  and  all  the  things 
we  have  loved  together.  .  .  .  The  following  are  the 
dates  of  my  movements:  June  27th,  Sandhurst  exam, 
(at  Winchester).  Beginning  of  July,  leave  Winches- 
ter for  good  (this  is  usual  in  the  case  of  men  going  to 
Sandhurst).  First  week  in  August,  results  of  exam, 
come  out.  Immediately  after,  go  to  Sandhurst.  .  .  . 
God  bless  you,  dear  Mother. — ^Your  loving 

Cruff. 

June^  1916. 

Dearest  Mother, — I  look  back  with  great  pleasure 
to  our  delightful  time  together.  I  enjoyed  so  much 
having  you  here,  and  I  think  you  managed  to  do  a 
lot  of  important  business  in  connection  with  me. 

This  afternoon  I  fired  at  the  range  and  did  very 


WINCHESTER  177 

well.  Sergeant  Bawket  said  there  was  nothing  in  my 
shooting  to  worry  about,  and  that  I  may  fire  at  the 
range  as  often  as  I  like,  so  as  to  get  good  by  prac- 
tice. .  .  .  He  has  been  eleven  years  in  the  Army,  and 
enjoyed  it  very  much.  He  was  in  the  trenches  nine 
months,  and  at  Mons  with  the  men  who  retreated 
eighteen  miles  at  two  miles  an  hour  without  any  food 
at  all.  This  eighteen  miles  was  right  at  the  end  of 
the  retreat.  I  think  he  has  taught  me  a  great  deal,  and 
all  of  it  will  be  useful  to  me.  .  .  .  Last  lesson  we  went 
out  to  a  place  where  there  are  some  real  trenches,  and 
he  told  me  all  about  trench  warfare — very  interesting. 
I  shall  be  sorry  in  a  way  to  leave  here — but  not  alto- 
gether sorry,  which  is  as  it  should  be,  I  think.  Farewell, 
dear  mother.  My  Sandhurst  exam,  is  coming  on  soon 
now. — Ever  your  loving 

Cruff. 

In  the  second  week  of  July,  1916,  Christopher  left 
Winchester  for  good  in  order  that  he  might  get  a  short 
holiday  before  going  to  Sandhurst  at  the  end  of  August. 


178 


CHRISTOPHER 


SUPPLEMENT  TO  CHAPTER  VIII 

Roll  of  Honour  * 


Of  those  who  were  contemporaries  of  Christopher  Tennant's 
at  Kingsgate  House,  Winchester,  the  following  have  laid  down 
their  lives  in  the  service  of  their  country  during  the  Great 
War;— 

"K"  House. 
1905-11  .    K.O.S.B. 


T.  C.  Gillespie  . 
A.  J.  I.  Donald  . 
A.  M.  Gaselee  . 
G.  R.  McGusTY  . 
R.  I.  Mackenzie 

R.    S.    OSMASTON    . 

E.  H.  K.  Smithers 
Visct.  Weymouth 

R.  W.  AXKIN  .      . 

E.  R.  Hayward  . 
G.  C.  S.  Tennant 

F.  H.  Haden  .  . 
J.  K.  Falconer  . 
R.  Nevill  .  .  . 
F.  H.  Patten 

T.  H.  B.  Webb  . 

A.  Nugent     .  . 

J.  Ferguson    .  . 

F.  A.  Hicks    .  . 


1907-12  .  Manchester  Regt. 

1907-12  .  15th  Hussars     . 

1907-11  .  Royal  Irish  Rifles 

1909-11  .  Black  Watch     . 

1909-13  .  Royal  Sussex  Regt 

1909-14  .  Manchester  Regt. 

1909-12  .  Scots  Greys  .     . 

1910-15  .  R.H.A.      .     .     . 

1911-15  .  R.F.A.      .    .    . 

1911-16  .  Welsh  Guards  . 

1911-12  .  Rifle  Brigade     . 

1911-14  .  Hants  Carabiniers 

1911-15  .  S.  Lanes  Regt.  . 

1912-16  .  R.A.F.       .     .     . 

1912-16  .  Welsh  Guards  . 

1912-17  .  R.A.F.      .    .    . 

1913-16  .  R.A.F.      .    .    . 

19.  .-14  .  Royal  Fusiliers 

*Up  to  August,   1918. 


1914 
1915 
1915 
1916 
1914 
1917 
1916 
1915 
1917 
1916 
1917 
1917 
1917 
1918 
1918 
1917 
1918 
1917 
1918 


CHAPTER  IX 


SANDHURST 


"Man  is  the  shuttle,  to  whose  winding  quest 
And  passage  through  these  looms 
Grod  order'd  motion,  but  ordain'd  no  rest." 

Henry  Vaughan  (1650). 

No  excuse  seems  necessary,  at  the  present  time,  for 
giving  some  idea  of  life  at  Sandhurst  as  seen  by  a  type 
of  boy  who  has  undertaken  military  life  without  hav- 
ing been  normally  in  the  least  attracted  by  it — a  great 
multitude  now. 

Royal  Military  College^  Camber  ley. 

August  '^oth,  1916. 
Dearest  Mother, — I  am  going  to  tell  you  all  my 
adventures  from  the  beginning.  I  do  not  like  this  place 
much,  but  it  is  not  so  bad  as  I  expected.  I  believe  it 
is  quite  nice  after  the  first  six  weeks.  I  left  my  bicycle 
at  the  station  and  came  on  here  with  my  luggage  in  a 
car  with  a  lot  of  other  men.  I  first  saw  the  Adjutant, 
who  shook  hands  and  took  my  name  down.  Then  I 
came  on  to  K  Company.  It  was  a  cavalry  company 
before  the  war.  Now  Guards  and  cavalry  and  infantry 
are  all  mixed  up.  There  are  about  900  here  in  all,  I 
believe.  When  I  got  here  I  was  shown  a  room;  it  is 
quite  a  separate  room,  about  the  size  of  the  bathroom, 

179 


180  CHRISTOPHER 

and  it  is  nice  to  have  it.  Then  I  saw  our  sergeant, 
Sergeant  Giles,  a  fierce-looking  man,  brawny,  with  a 
toothbrush  moustache.  He  took  my  name  and  address 
and  gave  me  my  safe  key  and  room  number.  I  also 
saw  the  Captain  of  the  Company — he  took  my  name 
and  religion  and  future  regiment!  Then  I  was  left 
alone.  It  was  like  one's  first  day  at  school.  Nobody 
took  any  notice  of  me,  and  one  was  a  mere  cypher.  Also 
the  buildings  here  are  like  a  maze.  It  is  literally  im- 
possible to  find  one's  way  anywhere  at  first,  and  I 
hardly  know  the  way  now.  It  is  like  being  in  bar- 
racks here.  My  room  looks  on  to  a  square  surroimded 
by  other  rooms.  I  found  no  key  to  my  room.  All 
rooms  have  a  Yale  lock  on  the  inside  and  are  supposed 
to  be  locked.  There  was  also  no  plug  in  the  washing 
basin,  so  that  all  the  water  ran  away.  I  managed  to 
get  the  key  and  the  plug  from  my  servant  after  a  time. 
I  have  got  a  rifle  of  my  own,  and  various  articles  of 
kit  in  the  shape  of  belts  with  water-bottles,  etc.,  on 
them.  We  go  before  mess  to  an  ante-room,  which  is  a 
sort  of  large  smoking  lounge.  The  new  arrivals,  or 
"juniors"  (as  they  are  called  till  the  next  lot  come  in, 
when  they  become  "seniors")  are  nOt  allowed  to  go  to 
the  upper  end  of  the  ante-room,  but  have  to  keep  down 
in  one  corner,  and  there  is  an  invisible  line  which  one 
may  not  cross.  If  one  offends  the  seniors  by  so  doing, 
one  is  liable  to  be  put  in  an  ink  bath.  All  this  is  very 
barbarous.  The  seniors  here  seem  a  very  rowdy  lot. 
Then  we  had  a  good  dinner — the  food  here  is  very 
good — and  afterwards  the  senior  man  of  the  Company 
came  and  talked  to  the  juniors.  He  gave  us  a  few  hints 
about  things.  He  said  "The  point  of  this  place  is  disci- 


SANDHURST  181 

plinc,"  which  about  sums  it  up.  The  mess-room  is  dark 
and  ominous,  red  in  colour,  hung  with  military  trophies, 
so  different  to  the  majestic  beauty  of  Trinity's  hall. 

I  am  lucky  in  having  got  into  a  good  set  here— the 
nucleus  of  which  is  another  old  Wykehamist  and  an 
old  Etonian,  called  Ralli,  a  very  nice  fellow.  He,  too, 
was  going  to  Trinity,  Cambridge,  and  was  prevented 
by  the  war.  The  course  here  is  about  six  months. 
There  is  no  leave  till  we  are  "off  the  square" — that  is, 
finished  our  drills — which  means  at  the  end  of  a  month 
or  six  weeks.  It  depends  how  we  get  on,  but  till  then 
there  is  no  leave.  However,  we  get  the  following  times 
off,  and,  I  believe,  are  allowed  to  go  anywhere  in  those 
times : — 

Wednesday,  2  to  mess. 
Saturday,     il  to  mess. 

I  believe  there  is  a  good  hotel  at  Camberley,  if  you 
come  down  here  some  time.  My  time-table  is  as  fol- 
lows, and  very  descriptive: — 

6.0.         Wakened  by  servants,  who  go  round  with  ham- 
mers, banging  on  the  doors. 

6.30.       Coffee. 

6.50.       Drill. 

8.0.         Breakfast. 

9-1.        Drill.     Later  other  things — riding,  etc.,  or  gym- 
nastics. 

1.  Lunch. 

2-7.         Various  military  work. 

8.  Mess. 

9-10.       Sort  of  "prep."     One  has  to  be  alone  in  one's 
room  and  look  over  the  book  work  one  has 
had  in  the  day. 
10.30.       Lights  out. 


182  CHRISTOPHER 

We  went  and  got  measured  this  morning  and  got 
our  gym.  things.  There  are  a  good  many  new  buildings 
here.  I  feel  this  will  get  very  monotonous  after  a  time, 
and  I  shall  never  like  it.  Still,  I  know  it  is  best  under 
the  circumstances.  I  will  write  again.  God  bless  you. 
I  am  with  you  in  the  spirit  always  and  feel  very  home- 
sick here  I — Ever  your  loving 

Crufp. 

We  have  to  pay  2s.  a  month  ante-room  subscription. 
The  ante-room  is  where  we  go  before  dinner,  and  our 
names  are  called  there.  The  subscription  is  to  supply 
furniture,  as  every  single  article  of  furniture,  including 
the  piano,  was  smashed  by  the  last  lot  of  people  who 
went  out  to  take  up  commissions ! 

August  SiJ-/,  1916. 
Dearest  Mother, — No  letter  from  you  yet.  All 
well  here.  I  foresee  this  place  will  be  quite  possible 
after  a  bit.  I  am  not  at  all  unhappy,  and  quite  en- 
J03nng  the  time  when  we  are  not  drilling,  as  I  have 
luckily  got  into  a  good  set.  This  is  very  fortunate. 
The  people  I  know  here  are  chiefly  old  Etonians,  and 
one  other  old  Wykehamist  whom  I  like.  I  have  seen  a 
good  many  other  old  Wykehamists  about  in  other  com- 
panies. There  are  ten  companies  and  about  seventy  or 
eighty  in  each.  I  have  just  had  a  bath  (5  p.m.),  as  it  is 
impossible  to  get  one  in  the  morning.  There  are  only 
two  bathrooms  and  a  few  shower  baths.  The  drill  is 
strict,  but  the  unpleasant  part  of  it  will  be  over  in  a 
few  weeks.  We  each  have  a  rifle,  which  we  have  to 
keep  clean ;  we  have  it  in  our  rooms.  .  .  .  Some  of  the 
seniors  are  very  rowdy,  but  do  not  take  much  notice 


SANDHURST  188 

of  us  juniors.  I  am  sorry  I  do  not  get  any  leave  for 
the  first  six  weeks,  but  perhaps  I  can  get  over  to 
Fisher's  Hill  ^  sometimes  on  Saturdays,  when  we  can  go 
where  we  like  between  1 1  and  7.  This  morning  we  all 
put  on  gym.  clothes  and  were  inspected  in  the  gymna- 
sium— that  is,  all  the  new  cadets,  about  500  in  all. 
We  were  inspected  by  General  Stopford,  the  Com- 
mandant. Later  we  went  to  a  class-room,  where  the 
CO.  of  our  company  (Major  Tod)  spoke  to  us.  He 
asked  us  to  go  to  him  in  any  difficulty.  I  hope  all  is 
well  with  you. — Ever  your  loving  and  inwardly  un- 
military 

Cruff. 

September  u/,  1916. 

Could  you  send  me  my  football  boots?  I  take  the 
Daily  News  every  day,  and  have  done  so  since  I  have 
been  here.  I  will  certainly  try  and  keep  up  my  classics. 
I  will  do  the  Homer. 

We  do  a  good  deal  of  book  work,  consisting  of: 

( 1 )  Military  Law  and  Administration. 

(2)  Tactics  (very  interesting). 

(3)  Topography,  maps,  etc.   (all  very  inter- 

esting). 

The  more  I  am  here  the  better  it  seems,  and  it  is  all 
right  after  one  gets  into  it.  I  am  very  pleased  about 
the  Prize  Cadetship.^  I  get  tea  daily  at  4.  It  is  not 
supplied,  but  I  have  it  at  a  shop  or  cafe.  I  am  well  and 
happy.    I  have  got  my  Madonna  ^  up,  and  my  room  is 

*The  home  of  the  Rt.  Hon.  G.  W.  Balfour. 

"Awarded  to  him  on  the  result  of  the  entrance  examination. 

^Botticelli's  Virgin  and  Child  and  St.  John   (the  Louvre). 


184  CHRISTOPHER 

quite  comfortable I  think  of  you  often  at  Cadox- 

ton.  I  am  going  to  get  "Old  Mortality"  from  the  li- 
brary this  evening — you  can  take  books  for  fourteen 
days.  ...  I  am  lucky  in  having  the  officer  in  my  Com- 
pany— Senior  Cadet — an  old  Wykehamist:  I  knew 
him  at  Winchester  and  was  in  the  same  form  with  him. 

September  2fd^  1916. 
We  had  church  parade  this  morning  and  marched  to 
church  with  a  band.  This  lot  of  seniors  go  out  in  six 
weeks,  and  I  believe  there  is  a  probability  of  our  all 
getting  five  or  six  days'  leave  then!  I  hope  so.  We 
should  then  become  seniors;  this  is  very  lucky,  as  usu- 
ally men  are  juniors  for  at  least  three  months.  We 
shall  be  seniors  for  more  than  four  months.  We  are 
doing  two  hours'  drill  a  day  at  present.  The  Adjutant 
is  often  there,  and  he  is  terribly  strict.  He  drops  on 
you  for  having  your  boots  laced  the  wrong  way,  and 
that  sort  of  thing  I  I  quite  enjoy  my  leisure  time  here, 
it  is  a  great  thing  having  one's  own  room.  ...  It  is 
not  so  bad  as  I  expected,  and,  now  I  have  more  or  less 
got  into  it,  it  is  all  right,  but  it  may  be  worse  later  on. 
The  discipline  is  very  strict,  and  I  do  not  like  that! 
Also  it  is  a  great  bore  getting  up  so  early.  This  place 
is  surrounded  by  a  beautiful  park,  with  a  lake  in  it  on 
which  men  boat.  The  sergeant  who  drills  us  is  a  nice 
man,  but  enormously  strict:  he  expects  one  to  move 
like  lightning,  and  he  is  always  falling  on  somebody! 
One  has  to  keep  perfectly  still  on  parade,  and  some 
of  the  rifle  exercises  are  very  difficult.  One  has  to  make 
a  great  deal  of  noise  with  the  rifle  in  moving  it  about. 
This  is  quite  incorrect  from  a  military  point  of  view. 


SANDHURST  185 

and  only  done  here — so  we  have  to  do  it!  We  also 
have  to  learn  one  or  two  rifle  exercises  that  are  done 
nowhere  else!  This  seems  such  a  waste  of  time.  .  .  . 
This  place  is  very  physically  fatiguing,  and  one  gets 
so  little  sleep,  but  I  shall  only  be  here  seven  months 
at  the  very  outside,  and  I  am  sure  this  is  the  very  best 
thing  that  could  have  happened  considering  the  present 
circumstances.  .  .  . 

September  tth,  1916. 
Dearest  Mother, — I  have  written  to  Lord  Har- 
lech. I  take  in  the  Daily  News^  the  Saturday  West- 
minster, and  the  New  Statesman — all  of  which  I  de- 
vour eagerly,  as  they  are  a  link  with  intellectual  things. 
I  have  also  got  "Old  Mortality,"  but  do  not  enjoy  it 
so  much  as  when  we  read  it  together.  ...  It  seems  as 
though  I  had  been  here  for  months,  although  the  days 
seem  to  slip  by  quickly.  It  feels  to  me  very  strange 
my  being  here — and  almost  like  a  dream.  But  it  is  not 
nearly  so  bad  as  I  expected,  and  though  at  times  one 
has  to  do  unpleasant  things  there  are  advantages  which 
make  up  for  them.  We  get  up  at  6  all  through  the 
winter  I  Sometimes  I  have  been  so  tired  that  I  went  to 
sleep  again  after  being  woken,  and  woke  up  at  7.25, 
dressed  in  ten  minutes,  and  just  had  time  for  some 
coffee.  The  other  night  the  seniors  put  two  juniors 
into  cold  baths  and  then  made  them  run  along  pas- 
sages, beating  them  with  belts  and  sticks.  I  do  not 
think  I  am  at  all  likely  to  come  in  for  any  of  this.  .  .  . 
We  breakfast  at  9  on  Sundays,  and  may  come  down 
at  any  time.    What  joy! — Ever  yours, 

Cruff. 


186  CHRISTOPHER 

September  13/A,  1916. 
Dearest  Mother, — I  send  you  a  very  interesting 
article  from  the  New  Statesman;  I  agree  with  it  thor- 
oughly. We  spent  all  this  morning  digging  trenches, 
in  canvas  trousers — ^very  hard  work.  We  had  to  dig 
ourselves  in ;  each  man  had  a  piece  of  ground  6  ft.  by  3 
ft.,  and  had  to  dig  3  ft.  deep,  throwing  the  earth  up 
as  a  parapet  in  front.  We  just  went  out  into  a  wood 
and  marked  out  trenches  and  then  dug.  I  had  a  tree 
close  to  my  part  and  had  to  cut  the  roots  away  with  an 
axe.  Several  trees  had  to  be  cut  down  altogether,  as 
they  came  in  the  middle  of  the  trenches.  So  glad  you 
are  reading  Ibsen.  His  plays  made  a  great  impression 
on  me  when  I  read  them — not  so  very  long  ago.  I  re- 
member The  Lady  from  the  Sea,  well,  and  The  Wild 
Duck,  too.  The  Doll's  House  is  very  wonderful.  Do 
get  those  two  you  suggest,  and  we  could  read  them  to- 
gether. The  Master  Builder  and  Hedda  Gabbler.  I 
have  not  read  them.  I  do  not  think  I  should  have  time 
to  read  the  Welsh  Outlook.  All  well  here.  Ever  your 
loving  ^ 

Cruff. 

September  2^th,  1916. 
Dearest  Mother, — I  too  felt  it  was  terribly  hard 
parting  from  you  yesterday  morning — ^your  presence 
was  like  a  ray  of  sunshine.  I  so  enjoyed  having  you 
here,  and  it  makes  it  much  easier  for  me,  now  that  you 
know  all  about  my  life  here.  I  heard  from  Aunt 
Betty  ^  this  morning.  She  asks  me  to  go  over  to  Fisher's 
Hill.  Farrell  tells  me  he  has  never  known  anyone  hav- 

*Lady  Betty  Balfour. 


SANDHURST  187 

ing  an  extra  rough  tunic,  and  that  men  wear  superfines 
if  they  get  the  others  wet.  So  I  am  going  to  wait  and 
see  if  it  is  necessary  to  get  an  extra  one,  and  not  de- 
cide now.  I  think  it  would  be  better  to  send  me  the 
£3  by  post,  and  not  to  the  Accountant,  because  people 
look  in  the  book  and  see  one  has  a  lot  of  money  with 
the  Accountant  and  then  press  one  to  lend  them  money 
— if  one  has  two  or  three  pounds  there.  I  got  your 
letter,  written  on  an  envelope,  this  morning,  and  it 
cheered  me  up  very  much.  I  find  two  men  keep  spirit 
lamps  in  their  room  and  make  themselves  tea  some- 
times with  tabloids. — All  well.     Ever  your  loving 

Cruff. 

September  2%th^  1916. 

The  seniors  have  been  quite  nice  to  me  lately.  The 
rowdiness  has  died  down.  There  have  been  no  more 
ink  baths  and  not  any  sort  of  rowdiness.  One  of  the 
juniors  told  me  that  the  seniors  had  decided  to  stop 
ink  baths  for  the  present. 

I  am  sorry  to  see  Bimbo  Tennant  killed ;  I  knew  him 
well — at  West  Downs,  and  he  was  at  Winchester  too.^ 
When  I  read  his  letter  I  felt  it  was  just  the  sort  of 
letter  I  might  have  written  to  you. 

October  2nd,  1916. 

Dearest  Mother, — I  am  reading  "Waverley,"  and 

like  it  very  much.     Have  you  ever  read  it*?     It  is  a 

great  thing  to  have  something  to  read  in  an  odd  ten 

minutes  or  quarter  of  an  hour.    We  are  finishing  our 

*  Lieut,  the  Hon.  E.  Wyndham  Tennant,  Grenadier  Guards,  killed 
in  action  September  22nd,  1916.  See  p.  123.  The  letter  referred  to 
is  one  written  by  him  to  his  mother  before  going  into  action. 


188  CHRISTOPHER 

drill  on  the  square  this  week,  and  would  have  done  so 
last  week  if  the  Adjutant  had  not  been  ill.  I  have  dis- 
covered here  a  reading  room  to  which  any  cadet  may 
go  any  time  to  read  and  be  quiet.  It  is  in  the  New 
Buildings,  and  I  often  go  there  now  and  read  the  pa- 
pers. I  even  discovered  there  books  by  the  last  person^ 
you  would  expect  to  find,  even  Bernard  Shaw — and 
am  reading  them!  Yesterday  I  went  to  Winchester 
with  six  others — one  of  them  a  man  who  was  in  my 
house  and  a  prefect  with  me.  I  like  him  very  much 
and  only  wish  we  were  in  the  same  company.  We  got 
there  at  two,  and  Archie  ^  gave  us  some  lunch.  Then 
we  talked  with  him  and  saw  the  Matron  and  all  the 
other  prefects,  etc.  It  seemed  very  strange  being  there, 
like  a  dream,  and  everything  so  familiar.  The  atmos- 
phere there  was  very  different  to  this  place.  One  felt 
the  contrast.  We  had  tea  with  the  prefects,  this  man 
and  I,  while  the  others  went  off  to  their  respective 
houses.  Then  we  went  to  Chapel  and  heard  the  Bishop 
of  Winchester  preach,  a  good  and  short  sermon.  Then 
I  had  a  talk  with  Monte,^  who  was  very  refreshing  and 
delightful.  We  had  dinner  with  Archie,  and  had  de- 
cided to  meet  at  the  "George"  at  eight.  Archie's  clocks 
were  a  quarter  of  an  hour  late,  and  we  got  there  to  find 
the  others  were  waiting,  and  had  been  for  a  quarter  of 
an  hour,  and  had  sent  the  car  for  us — of  course  we 
had  missed  it.  By  then  it  was  8.30,  and  we  had  to  be 
in  by  10.15.  The  driver  said  he  could  do  it  if  nothing 
happened,  and  we  got  on  all  right  till  we  were  about  six 
miles  from  here.    Then  our  head-lights  suddenly  went 

*Mr.  A.  E.  Wilson,  his  former  House  Master. 
*Mr.  Montague  Kendall,  the  Head  Master. 


SANDHURST  189 

out.  We  were  in  complete  darkness,  and  could  not  get 
the  lights  to  work.  We  persuaded  the  man  to  drive 
on  in  the  dark,  and  at  a  garage  hired  a  small  bicycle 
lamp,  which  I  held.  It  was  ten  o'clock,  and  the  others 
said  it  was  all  my  fault  our  being  so  late.  However, 
our  driver  behaved  splendidly,  and  we  drove  on  in 
darkness,  our  lamp  giving  hardly  any  light  and  being 
blown  out  by  the  wind  every  minute.  The  man  drove 
on  as  fast  as  he  could  in  the  dark ;  twice  we  were  almost 
into  a  telegraph  pole,  and  once  we  nearly  ran  into  a 
tree.  At  last  we  got  to  R.M.C.,  and  I  thought  we  were 
done  for.  We  rushed  in  to  sign  our  names  with  the 
time  of  arrival.  The  sergeant  called  out  10.20 1  At 
that  moment  an  officer — the  officer  in  charge — came  in, 
and  he  was  Scotch  and  very  nice.  We  told  him  what 
had  happened  and  he  said,  "All  right,  you  may  put  it 
down  10.15  on  the  book,  not  10.20!"  So  we  were  safe 
and  got  in  in  time.  The  seniors  would  have  made  it 
hot  for  me  if  we  had  been  late.  As  it  was,  they  are 
so  pleased  at  having  got  back  in  time  that  they  do  not 
mind.  I  so  enjoyed  going  to  Winchester.  Everybody 
so  nice  and  pleased  to  see  us. — Ever  your  loving 

Cruff. 

October  2,rd,  1916. 
I  do  rejoice  in  the  book^  which  you  have  sent  me.  I 
have  begun  the  Phado  already,  and  am  surprised  how 
easily  I  can  read  it.  I  have  got  the  English  on  the  op- 
posite page  to  the  Greek,  and  can  refer  from  one  to 
the  other  when  necessary.    I  find  I  can  read  the  Greek 

*  Plato,  with  an  English  translation  by  H.  N.  Fowler.     The  Loeb 
Classical    Library. 


190  CHRISTOPHER 

very  easily,  with  occasional  references  to  the  English. 
It  is  a  joy  to  have  Plato  here,  and  I  shall  certainly  read 
daily.  I  am  so  fond  of  Socrates — he  seems  like  an  old 
friend  when  I  come  back  to  him  again.  It  is  all  so 
refreshing,  and  I  delight  in  it  so. 

This  morning  I  was  five  minutes  late  for  parade. 
I  never  woke  up  because  they  tapped  very  lightly  on 
the  doors,  so  as  not  to  disturb  the  seniors  who  had  been 
inoculated  the  day  before,  and  were  to  stay  in  bed  this 
morning.  However,  I  was  let  off  any  punishment. 
The  sergeant  did  not  report  the  matter.  I  think  he  is 
very  pleased  with  me,  as  I  have  been  trying  very  hard 
lately.  I  do  not  think  my  lateness  has  affected  this, 
but  I  must  not  oversleep  again !  You  can  think  of  me 
reading  Plato  here ;  it  is  a  very  Xtian  way  of  spending 
one's  leisure  time  in  a  military  college  I 

Aged  19.  October  10  tk,  1916. 

Dearest  Mother, — Your  birthday  letter  to  me 
was  a  great  joy — with  all  the  blessings  that  it  brings. 
It  is  wonderful  to  think  that  I  am  19!  A  year  ago  I 
never  thought  I  should  be  encompassed  by  all  these 
"military  vipers"!^ 

A  magnificent  Etna  arrived  this  morning.  It  is  a 
lovely  one,  with  handles,  and  I  shall  be  able  to  make 
myself  hot  tea  and  coffee.  Everything  arrived  as  per 
list  except  the  bundle  of  wicks.  I  read  Plato  every 
evening  regularly.  Deedooge^  is  coming  over  this  after- 
noon to  see  the  buildings,  etc.,  and  I  shall  take  him  to 
my  room  and  show  him  my  rifle  and  things  which  you 

*  Some   family  joke,   only. 

'  Childish  nickname  for  his  father. 


SANDHURST  191 

saw.  This  week  we  finish  our  drill  on  the  square  and 
begin  Company  drill.  Everybody  says  the  worst  is 
over  when  you  leave  the  square. 

I  look  back  to  all  the  birthdays  I  have  celebrated, 
in  Cadoxton,  at  West  Downs,  and  at  Winchester — 
and  I  think  this  is  the  strangest  place  of  all  that  I  have 
had  a  birthday  in. 

"The  old  order  changeth,  yielding  place  to  new, 
And  God  fulfils  Himself  in  many  ways." 

I  remember  my  birthday  at  Cadoxton  when  I  was 
five,  with  five  candles.   It  seems  very  long  ago,  to  me ! 

Farewell,  dear  mother ;  I  am  never  completely  happy 
except  when  you  are  with  me. — Ever  your  loving  first- 
bom, 

Cruff. 

November  \st,  1916.^ 
Dearest  Mother, — My  thoughts  are  with  you  to- 
day, your  birthday.  I  wish  we  could  have  spent  it  to- 
gether; I  do  miss  you  so  much,  and  I  feel  it  more  to- 
day, sitting  alone  in  my  room,  than  I  did  yesterday.  It 
is  dreadful  having  to  part  from  you,  and  everybody. 

Coming  back  to  it,  I  feel  the  atmosphere  of  Sand- 
hurst is  to  me  very  uncongenial.  It  makes  a  difference 
being  a  senior,  and  so  on — but  it  is  depressing  coming 
back  again,  the  time  seems  to  go  so  slowly  at  first.  I 
have  got  the  same  room  as  before.  Three  of  the  seniors 
have  stayed  behind,  two  of  them  failed  to  pass  out, 
and  the  other  was  caught  in  London  and  deprived  of 
his  commission.     They  are  in  this  Company.     This 

*  Written  after  five  days'  recess,  spent  at  home. 


192  CHRISTOPHER 

morning  we  had  to  get  up  at  six  and  ride  from  seven 
to  eight.  We  only  trotted  round,  and  I  got  on  all 
right.  Then  we  did  Swedish  drill  from  nine  to  ten, 
and  after  that  two  hours'  tactics,  so  I  have  had  an 
energetic  morning.  ... 

There  is  a  rumour  that  our  lot  will  not  go  out  till 
April;  I  will  let  you  know  if  I  hear  anything  definite. 
I  did  so  enjoy  our  time  together,  and  every  moment  of 
those  four  days  was  precious  to  me.  It  will  be  a  joy 
to  have  you  here  on  the  24th. 

I  am  going  to  have  a  sleep  now,  as  I  feel  tired,  so 
farewell. — Ever  your  loving 

Cruff. 

November  ^tk,  1916. 

Dearest  Mother, — ^All  well  here;  I  find  life  very 
much  easier  as  a  senior,  and  I  get  on  well  with  every- 
body. It  was  hard  in  a  way  to  come  back  here,  but  now 
I  have  got  into  it  again  everything  seems  all  right. 
It  is  like  school  in  that  way. 

I  was  going  to  see  Monseigneur  De  La  Villarmois  at 
Farnborough  to-day,  but  it  has  been  raining  all  day 
without  stopping,  so  I  gave  it  up.  I  spent  the  after- 
noon partly  with  a  friend  who  was  at  Winchester  with 
me  in  my  house,  and  partly  in  the  reading  room.  In 
the  moming  I  did  a  little  work  for  an  exam,  we  are 
going  to  have  next  week  on  "The  Infantry  in  Attack" ! 
I  am  getting  on  well  with  riding :  I  think  I  have  good 
hands,  and  I  always  feel  an  affection  for  the  horse  I 
am  riding.  I  am  reading  in  my  leisure  moments  "The 
Heart  of  Midlothian."  It  is  very  wonderful.  I  do 
think  it  is  a  help  to  have  something  like  Scott  to  live 


SANDHURST  193 

with  and  digest — something  outside  my  present  sphere 
of  duties.  I  am  putting  my  back  into  all  my  work 
here — much  of  it  is  interesting  and  worth  doing  well. 

I  see  Oliver  Lodge  has  written  a  new  book,  "Ray- 
mond, or  Life  and  Death."  I  saw  a  review  of  it  in 
the  Times  Literary  Supplement,  and  it  deals  with 
topics  of  an  S.P.R.  nature. 

Our  lot  do  not  seem  to  be  very  rowdy,  except  for 
the  first  evening  of  the  new  juniors,  when  they  were 
exceptionally  rowdy,  to  impress  them  I !  I  One  senior 
dressed  up  as  a  junior,  and  the  other  seniors  mobbed 
him.  Then  an  officer  came  up,  and  did  not  recognise 
the  senior,  but  thought  it  was  a  junior,  and  he  was 
very  angry! 

I  so  so  miss  you.    Farewell. 

November  ^th,  1916. 
Dearest  Mother, — Your  letter  arriving  yesterday 
was  a  great  joy  to  me.  I  do  feel  thankful  that  I  am 
a  member  of  Trinity — that  in  itself  is  a  great  posses- 
sion for  me.  As  you  say,  I  belong  to  her,  now.  Your 
suggestion  about  an  article  re  life  here  is  a  very  good 
one,  and  I  will  see  what  I  can  do — and  try  to  talk 
about  things  that  happen  here  that  would  perhaps 
startle  the  outside  world,  though  we  get  used  to  them 
soon  enough.  .  .  .  This  morning  we  have  all  been  out 
with  maps,  marking  in  them  how  we  should  dispose 
outposts  and  picquets,  etc.  The  country  we  were  deal- 
ing with  is  all  flooded,  and  we  had  to  walk  about  in 
the  water !  Some  men  went  up  to  their  knees  in  it,  but 
I  managed  to  do  the  work  all  right  without  going  above 
my  ankles  in  water! 


194  CHRISTOPHER 

It  is  definite  that  we  shall  be  kept  here  till  April, 
unless  the  rumour  re  Guards  going  out  earlier  is  true. 
I  do  look  forward  to  having  you  here,  dear  mother; 
it  seems  ages  since  we  were  together. — Ever  your  loving 

Cruff. 

'December  \2th,  1916. 
I  have  just  won  my  spurs  at  riding,  which  is  a  great 
honour,  and  difficult  to  do — and  now  I  have  got  a 
beautiful  new  pair  of  spurs  which  I  shall  wear  for  rid- 
ing in  future !  I  have  written  to  Lord  Harlech.  I  see 
the  papers  every  day.  What  a  strange  state  the  po- 
litical world  seems  to  be  in ! 

January  13/^,  19 17.* 
All  is  well:  my  luggage  arrived  this  morning  and 
I  have  got  it  all  right.  Coming  back  here  has  been 
much  less  trying  than  I  expected.  Now  I  am  here 
Peter^  and  I  and  my  Irish  friends  are  good  company. 
It  was  dreadful  leaving  you;  but  I  enjoyed  every  mo- 
ment of  those  three  weeks  we  had  together. 

I  have  got  Wells's  "Passionate  Friends"  to  read. 
I  went  to  bed  soon  after  mess.  They  got  us  up  at  six 
this  morning,  paraded  us  at  seven  for  drawing  our 
rifles.  That  process  was  over  by  7.10,  and  we  had 
nothing  to  do  till  breakfast  at  eight  o'clock!  We  are 
having  a  new  time-table  now,  in  which  the  chief  thing 
is  firing  at  the  big  range  with  ball  ammunition.  There 
seems  to  be  no  more  Company  Drill.  The  only  things 
we  shall  be  doing  are — 

*  Written  after  the  Christmas  recess. 

•Sec-Lieut.  Peter  Harris,  Coldstream  Guards.    See  p.  108. 


SANDHURST  195 

Shooting, 
Hall  of  study, 
Swedish  drill, 
Riding, 
Digging  trenches. 

The  new  lot  arrive  on  the  23rd.  I  have  been  over  to 
the  Staff  College  to  see  our  juniors.  They  are  in  quite 
nice  big  rooms,  and  they  have  fires  in  their  rooms, 
which  is  very  nice  for  them.  I  hope  all  is  well  with 
you.  You  can  think  of  me  as  happy  and  untroubled. 
I  miss  you  all  intensely. — Your  loving 

Cruff. 

January  i^tk^  iQi?* 
All  well  here.  We  had  the  usual  Church  Parade  this 
morning.  There  was  a  fine  rain  falling  all  the  time, 
which  later  turned  to  snow.  We  stood  in  the  rain  and 
were  inspected  by  people  in  red  tabs — I  thought  of 
Wells! 

Then  we  had  quite  a  good  sermon  from  the  Muscu- 
lar Christian,  who  actually  quoted  "Mr.  Britling"^  to 
these  "military  vipers."  He  spoke  of  it  as  the  book  of 
the  day,  and  quoted  that  part  right  at  the  end  where 
Letty  is  speaking  about  God — "a  God  who  struggles, 
who  is  akin  to  Mr.  Britling,"  and  how  "God  is  every- 
thing that  is  true,  everything  that  is  tender" — you  will 
remember  the  passage. 

January  l^th^  19 1 7- 
My  cold  is  quite  well  again  now,  and  I  am  enjoy- 
ing life  here  very  much.    I  made  a  "possible"  at  the 

*"Mr.  Britling  Sees  it  Through"  had  been  read  aloud  during  the 
recess  and  discussed  with  his  mother  until  all  hours  of  the  night 


196  CHRISTOPHER 

range  to-day.  I  got  ten  bulls'-eyes  at  2oo  yards  in 
rapid  fire — i.e.^  the  ten  shots  have  to  be  got  off  in 
forty-five  seconds  I  This  is  a  great  achievement !  Many 
thanks  for  the  Wells  article.  Do  send  them  to  me  in 
your  letters  whenever  they  come  out.  How  exciting 
your  being  an  official  for  next  year's  Eisteddfod  !^  The 
new  juniors  are  here — some  Wykehamists.  Five  of  the 
juniors  fainted  on  seven  o'clock  parade  this  morn- 
ing  

January  30/^,  1917. 
Everything  is  going  on  well  here.  We  are  having 
glorious  skating  on  the  lake.  We  have  finished  our 
course  of  shooting  and  I  am  one  of  the  best  shots  in 
the  Company.  You  can  be  a  marksman,  a  first-class 
shot,  second-class  shot,  third-class  shot — I  am  a  marks- 
man, which  is  the  highest  of  all.  I  am  also  repre- 
senting the  Company  in  revolver  shooting,  as  I  am 
the  third  best  revolver  shot  in  the  Company. 

Letter  to  a  Friend. 

Royal  Military  College^  Camherley. 

February  \'^th^  IQI?* 
This  is  just  a  line  to  tell  you  how  much  I  enjoyed 
my  day  with  you  at  Reading.  I  look  back  with  pleasure 
to  every  moment  of  it,  and  hope  I  shall  be  able  to 
come  and  see  you  again. 

I  also  want  to  tell  you  my  adventures  after  I  left 
you.  The  driver  took  the  wrong  road,  though  he  asked 
the  way  several  times,  and  we  went  on  and  on  for 

^  His  mother  had  been  elected  Chairman  of  the  Arts  and  Crafts 
Committee  of  the  National  Eisteddfod  for  1918,  which  was  to  be 
held  in  Neath. 


SANDHURST  197 

miles,  then  we  stopped  to  look  at  a  sign-post  and  found 
we  were  going  towards  Reading!  We  got  into  the 
right  road  just  as  the  car  punctured.  So  we  took  the 
tyre  off  and  went  on  with  no  tyre,  until  the  wheel 
began  breaking.  Then  the  driver  refused  to  go  any 
farther,  and  we  were  stranded.  I  discovered  we  were 
at  a  place  called  Heckfield  Heath,  near  Hook,  in 
Hampshire,  with  no  house  for  miles  round.  So  I 
made  myself  comfortable  in  the  car  and  went  to  sleep  I 
I  had  quite  a  good  night's  rest,  and  was  well  wrapped 
up.  In  the  morning  the  engine  was  frozen,  so  we  first 
mended  the  puncture,  and  then  I  had  to  walk  a  con- 
siderable distance  to  get  some  hot  water.  After  that 
the  engine  started  again,  and  we  got  back  safely  at 
9.30  on  Sunday  morning! 

I  had  an  adventurous  night  of  it,  and  was  not  at  all 
uncomfortable,  and  I  took  everything  calmly! 

The  authorities  didn't  mind  a  bit,  and  were  rather 
amused  at  my  adventures. 

February  17M,  1917. 

We  are  having  a  sort  of  concert  to-night.  I  think 
juniors  are  going  to  sing — voluntarily !  If  the  mumps 
goes  on  we  may  get  three  weeks'  holidays  when  I  pass 
out,  owing  to  infection.  The  hospitals  are  full,  and 
there  are  mumps  quartered  in  the  rooms  of  A  Com- 
pany ! 

We  were  inspected  to-day  by  the  D.G.I.C.G.S., 
which  being  interpreted  is  the  Deputy  General  in  Com- 
mand of  the  General  Staff.  I  had  a  very  wild  horse 
yesterday  at  riding,  he  refused  to  go  over  the  jump  and 
swerved  round  it,  then  began  kicking,  and  very  nearly 
kicked  old  X,  who  had  to  jump  nimbly  aside.   Several 


198  CHRISTOPHER 

other  officers  watching  nearly  got  kicked,  and  finally 
the  instructor  had  to  get  on  him  and  take  him  over 
the  jump, 

I  am  doing  a  lot  of  revolver  shooting,  as  I  am  in 
the  battalion  revolver  team — i.e.^  one  of  the  thirty 
best  shots  in  the  College.  The  days  pass  very  quickly. 
I  do  a  good  deal  of  work,  and  ought  to  pass  out  easily. 
There  are  really  very  few  subjects  to  learn  up  for  the 
exam,  when  you  consider  them  all.  ...  By  the  way, 
I  read  with  interest  the  cuttings  you  sent  me  re  brains 
in  the  Army,  etc.,  and  also  gave  them  to  Harris  to 
read.  I  hope  all  goes  well  with  you  at  Cadoxton.  We 
spend  most  of  our  time  now  doing  schemes — going  out 
into  the  country  and  putting  into  practice  what  we 
have  learnt  in  theory.  There  are  several  cases  of 
measles  now,  as  well  as  mimips — ^just  developed. 

All  the  skating  is  over  now,  and  there  is  very  little 
ice  left  on  the  lake.  We  have  finished  all  our  work 
really,  as  the  course  was  arranged  to  last  six  months, 
and  now  they  do  not  know  what  to  do  with  us,  so  we 
are  just  doing  the  same  old  drill  most  of  the  time — 
forming  fours,  etc. 

They  have  started  a  clothing  inspection  now,  and  we 
have  to  put  all  our  clothes  out  on  our  beds,  then  an 
officer  comes  round  and  inspects  it.  Everything  has 
to  be  in  a  particular  place,  socks  with  a  collar  between 
them,  and  all  that  sort  of  thing! 

Our  food  is  also  being  reduced ;  we  get  no  sugar  now, 
and  all  the  tea  and  coffee  is  sweetened  beforehand,  and 
we  have  our  porridge  with  a  very  small  heap  of  sugar 
put  on  it  for  us  I !  You  know  what  a  lot  of  sugar  I 
generally  like  1 1 


SANDHURST  199 

You  must  excuse  this  long  scroll,  as  I  have  just  fin- 
ished my  writing  paper — it  is  what  Father  Christmas 
put  in  my  stocking. 

I  hope  all  is  well  with  you. 

February  27M,  1917. 
I  am  working  hard  for  the  exams.  I  saw  by  chance 
in  the  Orderly  Room  that  one  of  my  schemes  was  be- 
ing sent  to  the  Commandant,  together  with  our  under- 
officer's,  as  being  super-excellent  I  A  scheme  is  when 
we  go  out  and  draw  maps  of  the  country  and  then  put 
our  troops  in  various  dispositions — to  protect  another 
force,  for  instance.  We  are  doing  night  work  to-night, 
and  come  back  at  nine  o'clock.  Then  we  get  up  at  6.30 
again  next  day  I 

March  (ith,  1917. 

Great  joy!  A  notice  has  come  out  to  say  that  the 
College  closes  for  three  weeks  from  next  Thursday, 
the  day  after  to-morrow,  and  all  cadets  will  return 
to  their  homes!  We  are  going  to  be  disinfected  and 
sent  home,  "owing  to  the  outbreak  of  mumps."  This 
notice  only  came  out  this  afternoon,  and  I  am  writ- 
ing to  tell  you  to  expect  me. 

We  are  going  to  be  disinfected  in  a  steam  and  car- 
bolic room.  Very  few  mumps  in  our  Company  com- 
pared to  the  others. 

The  recess  lasted  for  just  under  four  weeks,  and 
was  a  pure  joy  to  all  concerned.  Christopher  spent 
many  days  rabbit-shooting,  starting  out  after  a  late 
breakfast  with  his  lunch  in  his  pocket  in  company  with 
a  keeper.    He  would  return  at  dusk  to  a  square  meal, 


200  CHRISTOPHER 

and  afterwards  every  member  of  the  family,  big  and 
little,  would  be  summoned  to  an  inspection  of  the  bag, 
a  row  of  brown  bunnies  of  various  sizes  spread  out 
upon  stone  flags.  Each  bunny  would  be  commented  on, 
often  the  place  and  manner  of  its  shooting  would  be 
described  in  detail — the  heaviest  would  be  weighed — 
some  would  be  tied  together  and  labelled  for  despatch- 
ing in  various  directions — the  family  and  household 
having  entered  protests  against  a  diet  too  exclusively 
rabbit. 

Beethoven  in  the  Music  Room,  followed  by  a  pipe 
and  much  talk,  usually  completed  the  round  of  the 
day. 

R.M.C.,  April  Sth,  1917. 

Dearest  Mother, — I  got  your  letter  last  night — 
not  to-day  as  you  had  expected.  I  have  had  a  strange 
Easter — no  church — but  I  have  meditated  upon  things 
in  heaven  and  earth  generally. 

We  had  a  three  hours'  Law  paper  this  morning,  in 
which  I  did  very  well,  I  think,  as  I  believe  I  got  prac- 
tically everything  right.  Then  this  afternoon  we  had 
a  three-hours'  paper  on  Administration,  which  I  did 
not  do  so  well,  for  this  reason.  Half  the  questions  were 
on  things  we  had  not  done  with  our  officers,  though  we 
ought  to  have  done  them.  However,  I  knew  the  other 
questions  absolutely  pat,  so  am  sure  of  not  having 
failed  in  it,  and  made  very  good  common-sense  tries 
for  the  ones  we  had  not  been  taught.  We  have  only 
three  more  exams,  now.  Physical  Training,  Musketry, 
and  Drill.  We  had  one  oral  paper,  and  I  got  150,  full 
marks,  for  that.    The  two  officers  who  correct  all  our 


SANDHURST  201 

company's  papers  and  do  our  exams,  are  very  nice — 
one  is  Major  Powell,  and  Captain  Galsworthy — offi- 
cers of  another  company.  .  .  . 

I  might  have  still  been  here  now  without  any  recess 
if  it  hadn't  been  for  the  mumps  I  I  did  enjoy  my  time 
so  much,  and  did  more  work,  I  think,  than  I  should 
have  done  had  I  been  here.  Harris  has  brought  back  a 
stiletto  which  he  can  throw  into  a  wall  from  a  great 
distance  and  it  sticks  there.  I  will  write  again  soon; 
we  shall  meet  again  in  three  weeks,  and  I  hope  I  shall 
get  another  recess  then  I 

April  litk,  1917. 

We  have  been  having  intervals  of  snow  and  hail  all 
to-day.  Many  thanks  for  the  Wise  One's  cake.  I  will 
write  him  a  letter  myself.  I  am  sorry  to  have  forgotten 
that  it  was  his  birthday — but  in  the  stress  of  exams. 
I  have  had  a  lot  to  do. 

We  had  a  ten-mile  route  march  yesterday  (in  the 
middle  of  exams. ! ) ,  but  I  was  not  very  tired.  I  did  a 
lot  of  walking  when  I  went  shooting.  I  thought  of 
that  book  about  the  Foreign  Legion  where  they  did 
thirty  miles  a  day !  We  are  now  doing  what  is  called 
Company  Training  till  we  leave — that  is  work  in  the 
open,  and  sort  of  sham  fights  every  day.  We  practise 
what  we  have  learnt  in  theory,  i.e.,  attacking  over 
different  sorts  of  ground,  etc.  We  have  to  practise 
lying  down  and  getting  up  quickly;  the  gorse  is  very 
prickly,  and  suddenly  a  whistle  blows  and  we  have  to 
fall  down  flat !  There  is  probably  going  to  be  a  Com- 
pany Supper  in  London  the  day  we  pass  out — that  is, 
all  the  seniors  have  a  sort  of  final  good-bye,  and  I  have 
said  I  will  come. — Farewell. 


202  CHRISTOPHER 

Friday,  April  loth,  1917. 

Dearest  Mother, — All  well  here.  We  have  been 
out  every  day  this  week  so  far,  doing  Field  Days,  and 
not  coming  back  till  after  four.  We  have  been  having 
sham  fights,  etc.,  combined  with  route  marches,  but  we 
have  not  been  getting  up  early  before  breakfast,  so  it 
has  not  been  so  bad. 

To-night  we  are  going  to  practise  relieving  trenches, 
which  is  always  carried  out  by  night,  and  we  leave 
the  R.M.C.  at  9.30  p.m.,  and  stay  in  the  trenches  till 
12  midnight.    I  hope  to  get  back  about  1  a.m. I! 

Then  next  Wednesday  the  Duke  of  Connaught  is 
coming  down  to  inspect  us.  On  the  other  days  we  are 
having  Field  Days  of  the  whole  Battalion  together — 
about  1,000  strong. 

Our  G.S.  tunics  have  all  gone  down  to  have  Stars 
put  on !  .  .  . 

God  bless  you,  dear  mother. — Ever  your  loving 

Cruff. 

April  2^th,  1917. 

Dearest  Mother, — Just  one  line  to  say  I  have 
passed  out  twelfth — out  of  about  330  in  the  R.M.C. 
Tod  very  pleased,  and  gave  me  the  list  of  everybody. 
Giles  says  I  ought  to  order  my  uniform  directly  I 
leave ;  that  is  the  usual  thing  to  do. 

I  wrote  to  the  Adjutant  of  the  Welsh  Guards  yes- 
terday on  receipt  of  your  telegram.  I  told  him  I  should 
probably  be  reporting  for  duty  about  ten  days  after 
leaving  here,  as  I  think  we  may  get  ten  days'  recess, 
though  it  is  not  certain. 

We  have  got  our  kit :  it  came  yesterday,  and  I  have 


SANDHURST  203 

got  a  magnificent  Welsh  Guards  sword,  with  leeks  on 
it  in  every  direction!    Also  I  have  got  my  tunic  with 
stars  on  it,  and  a  Sam  Brown  belt.  .  .  . 
Ever  your  loving 

Cruff. 

He  returned  to  Wales  on  April  30th,  and  was 
gazetted  to  the  Welsh  Guards  on  the  same  day.  From 
the  7th  to  the  1 5th  Mother  and  Son  were  in  London,  a 
time  much  occupied  with  visits  to  tailor,  cap-maker, 
etc.,  but  which  gave  opportunity  for  seeing  a  number 
of  plays  and  hearing  several  operas.  On  May  15th  he 
joined  his  Regiment  at  Tad  worth,  where  it  was  in 
camp. 


CHAPTER  X 


WELSH    GUARDS 


"Questa  montagna  e  tale, 
Che  sempre  al  cominciar  di  sotto  e  grave, 
E  quanto  uom  piu  va  su,  e  men  fa  male. 

Pero  quand'  ella  ti  parra  soave 
Tanto,  che  il  su  andar  ti  sia  leggiero, 
Come  a  seconda  guiso  andar  per  nave, 

Allor  sarai  al  fin  d'esto  sentiero: 
Quivi  di  riposar  I'affano  aspetta." 

"Tu  sei  si  presso  all'  ultima  salute 
....  che  tu  dei 
Aver  le  luci  tue  chiare  ed  acute." 
Dante,  "Purgatorio,"  Canto  iv. ;  "Paradiso,"  Canto  xxii. 

{See   page   2pp,) 

Guards'  Camp^  Tadworth^  Surrey. 

May  i6tk,  1917. 

Dearest  Mother, — My  address  is  as  you  see  above 
— though  you  had  better  put  Welsh  Gruards  in. 

I  will  tell  you  all  my  adventures  from  the  time  I 
left  you.  I  got  out  at  Tadworth  and  walked  to  the 
camp,  leaving  my  luggage  at  the  station.  Then  I  saw 
the  Adjutant — Martin  Smith  his  name  is — a  nice  man. 
Then  I  went  back  to  the  station,  got  a  cab,  and  brought 
up  my  luggage.  I  was  given  a  tent  and  a  servant.  He 
unpacked  my  things.  Then  the  furniture  arrived  from 
Orpington,^  and  I  got  a  bed  (a  proper  one)  and  a  chest 

*  Whence  the  Regiment  had  that  day  arrived  at  Tadworth. 

204 


WELSH  GUARDS  205 

of  drawers  and  washing  stand  and  looking  glass  and 
towel  horse.  I  went  to  the  ante-room,  and  we  messed 
at  7.30.  Webb^  was  away  for  the  day,  and  I  felt  very 
lost  at  first,  but  by  now  I  know  all  the  Second-Lieu- 
tenants and  some  of  the  other  officers.  I  think  they  are 
a  very  nice  lot. 

We  had  a  good  mess — with  new  potatoes  I — and 
then  I  went  to  bed  by  the  light  of  a  lantern.  We  do 
not  get  up  early  except  when  we  are  on  duty  for  the 
day.  Breakfast  at  8.15,  parade  at  9.  I  am  in  command 
of  a  platoon,  with  Llewellyn  and  Carlyon  in  command 
of  the  other  platoons.  Captain  Taylor  commands  the 
Company.  .  .  .  We  drilled  from  nine  to  ten.  At  ten 
we  had  Company  Orderly  Room,  and  soldiers  were 
brought  up  before  Taylor  for  various  offences;  we 
stood  behind  him.  Some  men  were  absent  when  they 
should  not  have  been.  Witnesses,  etc.,  were  called. 
One  man  "created  a  disturbance"  after  lights  out — 
others  had  dirty  buttons.  Then  we  inspected  the  men's 
tents.  From  eleven  to  twelve  we  did  more  drill.  Then 
we  got  off  till  two,  lunch  in  between. 

All  the  senior  officers  are  very  nice  to  me,  and  in- 
quire affectionately  about  Sandhurst!  ...  I  find  it  a 
great  advantage  having  been  to  Sandhurst.  Webb 
came  to  see  me  early  this  morning.  He  is  very  nice 
to  me,  and  we  get  on  well  together.  I  am  an  Ensign 
(/.^.,  Second-Lieutenant).  A  Subaltern  is  a  full  Lieu- 
tenant. 

Then  we  get  off  at  3  p.m.  and  can  go  away  if  we 

*At  Kingsgate  House,  Winchester,  with  him.    Since  killed  in  ac- 
tion, December  181,1917. 


206  CHRISTOPHER 

like,  as  long  as  we  get  back  at  nine  next  morning,  in 
time  for  parade.  .  .  . 

I  have  to  inspect  my  platoon  and  look  at  their  but- 
tons.  We  did  musketry  from  two  to  three  to-day. 

I  want  to  impress  upon  you  how  happy  I  am  here. 
It  is  much  nicer  than  Sandhurst,  and  I  feel  certain  I 
am  going  to  enjoy  it. 

God  bless  you,  mother  dear,  I  did  enjoy  our  time 
together ! — Your  loving  Cruff. 

Could  you  send  me  two  pillow-cases  (no  sheets)  and 
my  woolly  jacket,  as  it  is  cold  here?    All  well. 

May  i6th,  1917. 

Dearest  Mother, — I  am  writing  you  a  second  let- 
ter just  to  tell  you  anything  I  think  of.  I  am  in  my 
tent,  which  is  quite  comfortable,  thanks  to  my  servant 
Charles,  who  is  a  Cardiff  man.  I  am  so  glad  to  have 
my  Horace  with  me.  There  is  one  Ode  I  know  about 
soldiers  in  camp :  I  am  looking  for  it,  but  have  not  been 
able  to  find  it  yet.  .  .  .  The  men  in  our  Company  are 
most  of  them  fairly  new,  and  only  just  past  the  recruit 
stage,  so  they  are  very  slack  just  at  present.  The  offi- 
cers' tents  are  in  a  field  apart  from  the  main  body  of 
the  camp.  On  parade  for  the  first  ten  minutes  all  we 
do  is  that  the  officers  commanding  platoons  march  up 
and  down,  up  and  down,  in  front  of  the  Company. 
The  work  is  much  slacker  than  Sandhurst.  Webb  is 
doing  a  course  of  signalling,  and  knows  the  Morse  code 
backwards  now! 

I  thought  of  you  arriving  last  night  with  your  bun- 
nies and  felt  so  lonely  and  desperate  at  leaving  you 
till  I  got  here.    I  know  I  shall  be  happy  here  and  en- 


WELSH  GUARDS  207 

joy  myself.  My  work  is  interesting,  and  it  is  a  great 
advantage  having  been  to  Sandhurst  and  knowing  my 
job.  The  floor  of  my  tent  is  wood,  and  about  12  ft. 
in  diameter.  It  was  strange  waking  up  and  finding 
myself  in  a  tent  I  The  light  penetrates  the  canvas  quite 
early.  I  like  the  younger  officers  here  very  much,  and 
I  think  I  shall  get  on  well  with  them.  My  Spotted 
Dog^  is  unpacked  and  empty,  and  I  have  got  a  nice 
large  chest  of  drawers.  I  hope  you  are  reading  the 
"Ear  of  Dionysius"  !^  I  expect  I  shall  hear  from  you 
to-morrow.  .  .  .  We  only  wear  the  khaki  hats  for 
parade,  etc.,  here,  and  keep  our  super-magnificent  hats 
for  London.  I  am  so  glad  I  followed  your  advice  and 
brought  a  box  to  keep  my  hat  in!  I  often  think  you 
are  wrong  and  find  out  afterwards  that  you  are  right — 
dear  mother! — or  rather,  I  now  seldom  disagree  with 
you  re  anything! 

We  had  a  delicious  time  together.  Give  my  love  to 
everyone  at  Cadoxton.  God  bless  you. — Ever  your 
loving 

Cruff. 

May  iSth,  1917. 
Dearest  Mother, — ^All  well  here.  I  am  very 
happy  and  getting  on  splendidly.  My  work  for  the 
last  two  days  has  been  to  go  round  with  the  Picquet 
Officer  (called  Orderly  Officer  in  line  regiments),  so 
as  to  learn  a  job  which  I  shall  shortly  have  to  do  my- 

^  An  airtight  uniform  case,  so-called  from  the  peculiar  dec- 
orations in  paint  on  it. 

'A  paper  on  Automatic  Writings,  by  Mr.  G.  W.  Balfour,  given 
♦n  him  during  a  recent  visit  to  Fisher's  Hill.     {Proceedings  of  the 

ziW'y  for  Psychical  Research,  part  Ixxiii.,  vol.  xzix.) 


208  CHRISTOPHER 

self.  It  means  turning  out  and  inspecting  the  guard 
of  the  camp  at  1 2.30  p.m.  and  1 1  p.m.  in  the  evening, 
also  attending  parades  of  men  doing  punishments  at 
two  and  four  o'clock.  Then  visiting  the  cook-house 
and  men's  dinners,  asking  if  there  are  any  complaints, 
and  a  number  of  other  minor  things.  It  also  involves 
getting  up  at  6  a.m.  to  be  at  the  6.40  breakfast  parade. 
I  have  to  do  this  three  days  running.  The  Picquet 
Officer  is  not  allowed  to  leave  the  camp  while  on  duty. 
There  is  not  much  other  news  to  tell  you,  except  that 
I  have  been  drilled  a  bit  in  a  squad  of  private  sol- 
diers— but  I  did  all  that  at  Sandhurst,  so  I  know  it  all 
right.  Every  officer  on  joining  starts  by  having  to  do 
this.  We  have  a  very  good  mess  here — everything  very 
hot,  and  cream  at  lunch! — also  lump  sugar  and  po- 
tatoes ! 

All  the  officers  are  very  nice  to  me,  and  I  get  on 
well  with  the  Second-Lieutenants,  who  are  my  equals. 
The  Scots,  Coldstream  and  Grenadier  Guards  are  all 
coming  here,  and  some  of  the  officers  of  each  regiment 
will  mess  in  the  same  tent  with  us.    Ever  your  loving 

Cruff. 

May  list,  1917. 
Dearest  Mother, — I  have  got  my  clubs  and 
racket  safely.  Many  thanks  for  sending  them.  I  have 
not  been  doing  much  of  interest  lately,  beyond  what  I 
told  you  in  my  last  letter.  On  Sunday  we  had  church 
parade,  which  I  attended,  as  I  was  on  duty  that  day. 
We  had  a  sort  of  service  in  the  open  air,  sitting  on 
benches.  The  me'n  sang  most  beautifully — in  har- 
mony.    There  was  a  funny  little  padre  who  s^pT^-' 


WELSH  GUARDS  209 

very  optimistic  about  everything,  and  was  full  of  "All's 
right  with  the  world"  ideas.  After  that  I  and  another 
officer  were  taken  to  a  place  about  five  miles  off  by  one 
of  the  officers,  who  invited  me  over.  We  went  over 
by  car  to  this  house  of  his,  which  belongs  to  him. 
There  was  nobody  there  except  a  cook  and  a  house- 
keeper, and  we  had  a  nice  lunch  and  then  played  bil- 
liards and  gramophones,  and  walked  about  in  his  gar- 
den. We  left  at  4.30,  as  we  had  to  be  back  by  dinner. 
Please  send  me  all  the  manuscript  notebooks  writ- 
ten in  my  own  handwriting,  which  went  back  to  Wales 
in  my  trunk.  They  are  essential  to  me.  We  have  got 
two  Volunteer  Officers  who  have  just  joined  to  do  some 
training.  One  is  a  Captain  and  one  a  Lieutenant,  but 
I  am  senior  to  them  I  Tremendous  thunderstorms,  and 
torrents  of  rain  coming  into  the  tents  last  night,  but 
to-day  fine.  All  well  here.  I  am  well  and  happy. 
— Ever  your  loving 

Cruff. 

May  I'^rd,   1917. 

All  well  here.  I  went  up  to  London  yesterday  with 
Webb,  and  we  went  to  a  theatre  and  came  down  that 
evening. 

There  are  about  fifteen  other  Welsh  Guards  officers 
here.  The  Grenadiers  have  just  come,  in  number  about 
twenty  officers.  The  Welsh  Guards  officers  consist  of: 
Colonel  Stracey  Clitherow;  Captains:  Marshall  Rob- 
erts, Aldridge  (a  Wykehamist),  and  Taylor;  Lieuten- 
ants: Martin  Smith  (Adjutant),  Howard,^  Dickens, 

^  Lieut,  the   Hon.  Philip   Fitzalan  Howard,  died  of  wounds,   May 
2ist,  1918. 


210  CHRISTOPHER 

de  Wiart;  Second  Lieutenants:  Webb/  Pryce,  Llewel- 
lyn, Mathew,  Gore,  Byrne  ^  and  Baness  (just  left  for 
the  front),  Carlyon  and  myself.  In  my  platoon  there 
are  a  large  number  of  Davies,  Evans,  Jones,  Griffiths, 
Bowens,  etc.,  so  most  of  them  are  Welsh.  I  have  not 
come  across  any  Neath  men.  We  do  not  always  sit 
in  the  same  places  at  mess,  but  move  about.  I  gen- 
erally go  and  sit  next  to  one  of  my  friends.  I  feel 
well  and  am  very  fit.  I  am  going  to  get  some  riding,  as 
we  borrow  horses  from  the  senior  officers.  After  mess 
we  usually  sit  and  read  or  talk;  mess  is  over  about 
9.15.  I  have  played  bridge,  too,  and  bezique.  Letters 
are  put  in  pigeon-holes  in  the  ante-room  by  Sergeant 
James  (formerly  policeman  at  Port  Talbot).  I  have 
not  been  able  to  get  a  Daily  News.  Do  you  think  I 
could  get  it  posted  from  London*?  I  called  on  Stracey 
Clitherow  to-day  and  had  tea  with  him.  .  .  .  Tad- 
worth  has  no  village  that  I  can  find.  There  is  a  sta- 
tion, and  a  few  houses  round,  with,  I  believe,  one  or 
two  small  shops.   I  keep  my  bike  in  a  shed,  locked  up. 

I  am  now  drilling  the  men  every  day.  Yesterday 
I  took  a  parade  of  about  200  men ! 

The  Brigadier-General  in  command  of  this  Brigade 
has  asked  for  a  map  of  some  trenches  which  have  been 
dug  near  here,  and  I  have  been  chosen  by  the  Com- 
manding Officer  of  the  Welsh  Guards  to  make  this 
map.  I  have  got  all  day  to-morrow  for  it;  we  did  that 
sort  of  thing  at  Sandhurst.  All  well  here.  I  fear  I 
shall  be  unable  to  go  up  to  London  for  this  week-end, 
as  I  am  almost  certain  to  be  on  duty. 

*  Mr.  Webb  was  killed  in  action,  December  ist,  1917. 
*Mr.  Byrne  was  killed  in  action,  March  9th,  1918. 


WELSH  GUARDS  211 

May  2$th,  1917. 

This  morning  I  passed  off  in  Squad  Drill  under  the 
Adjutant's  eye!  I  had  to  drill  a  squad  of  men,  giving 
the  commands  on  the  proper  foot,  etc.,  and  I  managed 
this  all  right.  Then  this  afternoon  I  had  to  pay  the 
Company  I  Any  mistake  I  made  would  have  to  be  made 
up  out  of  my  own  pocket,  but  to-day  I  got  the  sum 
exactly  right.  Many  thanks  for  my  books,  which  have 
arrived  safely.    I  shall  be  doing  Company  Drill  now. 

I  have  been  up  to  London  the  last  few  days,  going 
up  in  the  afternoon  and  coming  back  in  the  evening. 
I  got  the  Regimental  Adjutant,  Crawshay  (Williams 
Bulkeley  is  away),  to  take  me  to  the  Guards'  Club, 
where  I  have  been  introduced.  My  Daily  News  comes 
every  morning,  and  is  a  great  joy  to  me.  It  is  nice  our 
reading  the  same  things.  I  see  a  letter  from  you  in  to- 
day's Times  re  Pensions.  I  played  tennis  yesterday 
with  the  Adjutant  here,  Martin  Smith,  and  got  on  very 
well;  we  played  at  a  house  near  here.  He  is  one  of 
the  Smiths,  of  the  Union  of  London  and  Smiths  Bank, 
and  knows  the  Serocolds  and  all  about  them.  I  will 
write  again  at  greater  length,  am  on  parade  now. 

June  dth,  1917- 
I  am  getting  on  well  here,  and  am  very  happy.  The 
map  of  the  trenches  I  made  was  a  great  success,  and 
General  Monck  sent  for  me  and  congratulated  me  on 
it.  He  made  me  write  my  name  on  it,  and  is  going  to 
have  it  copied  and  given  to  each  unit. 

To-morrow  Lord  French  is  coming  down  to  inspect 
us,  and  we  have  been  rehearsing  to-day  for  it.  He 
will  inspect  the  whole  Brigade  in  a  large  field  near  the 


212  CHRISTOPHER 

camp.  I  am  Picquet  Officer  to-day,  and  have  just  come 
off  a  large  parade,  where  I  inspected  defaulters.  I 
took  memoranda  to-day  and  dealt  out  punishments  to 
the  men,  tempering  justice  with  mercy  I 

Guards'  Club^  S.W.i,  June  i^tk,  1917. 

Dearest  Mother, — I  have  not  written  for  some 
time  because  I  have  been  most  frightfully  busy.  I 
was  up  here  the  week-end,  and  went  back  to  Tadworthi 
Sunday  evening.  The  next  morning  at  six  my  servant 
woke  me,  saying  I  was  to  be  at  Chelsea  Barracks  at 
9  a.m.,  so  I  caught  a  train  up  to  London,  travelling 
with  another  man,  Llewellyn,  who  is  doing  a  bombing 
course. 

I  am  doing  the  Lewis  machine-gun  course.  The  gun 
is  automatic,  and  fires  400  shots  per  minute,  and  is 
used  a  great  deal  by  the  infantry.  Every  officer  does 
this  course.  It  will  be  over  on  Friday,  and  I  am  going 
down  to  Fisher's  Hill  on  Saturday  for  the  week-end. 

We  work  horn  nine  to  twelve,  and  two  to  five ;  then 
we  have  to  copy  out  notes  in  the  evening,  so  there  is  a 
great  deal  to  do.  We  are  taught  by  a  Sergeant,  about 
ten  Officers,  three  others  in  the  Brigade  of  Guards,  but 
none  in  my  Regiment. 

The  cuttings  you  sent  me  I  saw  in  the  papers — all 
except  the  one  about  the  officers  complaining  re  man- 
ners of  Guardsmen.  The  reason  of  that  is  that  the 
attitude  of  some  of  the  Brigade  to  officers  of  the  line 
is  like  that  of  a  large  and  magnificent  lion  to  an  ob- 
scure blackbeetle! 

I  will  write  at  greater  length  to-morrow. — Your 
loving  Cruff. 


WELSH  GUARDS  213 

Fisher's  Hill,  Woking,  June  17/^,  1917. 

I  am  enjoying  myself  here  very  much.  On  Friday 
I  did  my  exam,  on  the  Lewis  gun;  the  exam,  was  in 
two  parts,  part  written  and  part  oral.  The  marks  we 
got  for  the  oral  were  read  out  before  we  left.  (I  got 
full  marks  for  oral,  and  one  other  officer  only!)  We 
shall  hear  the  whole  result  next  Saturday.  On  Wednes- 
day I  dined  with  Llewellyn,  and  we  went  to  the  play 
together. 

Delicious  weather  here — warm  and  sunny — garden 
looking  lovely  and  full  of  scents.  .  .  . 

You  said  you  were  enclosing  a  list  of  books  for  me 
to  get  from  Mudie's,  but  it  was  not  enclosed  in  your 
letter.  Shall  I  get  "Varieties  of  Religious  Experi- 
ence," by  William  James? — God  bless  you. 

Guards'  Camp,  Tadworth,  Surrey. 

June  iStk. 

I  got  back  here  safely  last  night.  Many  thanks 
for  Wells's  book.^  I  shall  start  reading  it  to-day. 
This  morning  I  have  been  sitting  on  a  court-martial, 
but  may  not  divulge  anything  about  it  to  anyone  yet  I 

I  shall  think  of  you  walking  in  the  Eisteddfod  Pro- 
cession I  I  do  hope  the  Commanding  Officer  will  give 
me  leave  for  the  Gorsedd. 

God  bless  you,  dear  mother.  You  are  often  in  my 
thoughts.  I  have  been  very  busy  the  last  week,  but 
now  shall  be  able  to  write  more  frequently.  The  father 
of  two  Wykehamists  in  my  house  is  now  here  as  a 
volunteer  officer — we  have  to  instruct  him.  Rather 
killing,  this! 

*"God  the  Invisible  King." 


214  CHRISTOPHER 

June  22nd f  1917- 
Dearest  Mother, — I  have  got  leave  for  the  Gor- 
sedd!  and  shall  arrive  Wednesday  evening  at  7.55,  I 
hope,  and  return  by  the  train  leaving  Neath  at  3.55  on 
Friday.  This  is  the  longest  I  can  get — but  it  will  be 
very  nice.  Fox-Pitt,  the  Adjutant,  persuaded  the  Com- 
manding Officer  to  let  me  go!  All  well  here.  My 
work  is  now  entirely  field  work,  attacking  and  defend- 
ing positions  in  the  country,  with  my  platoon.  There 
is  a  draft  going  out  to  France  next  week.  It  is  nice 
here  now,  and  not  too  hot. 

I  am  rejoicing  over  Women's  Suffrage.  It  is  splen- 
did that  it  has  come  at  last. 

I  am  getting  the  blue  evening  uniform  and  the  grey 
great-coat.  The  blue  is  worn  on  ceremonial  occasions, 
and  chiefly  when  dining  in  London.  It  is  the  evening 
"dress"  of  khaki.  I  went  up  to  London  with  Webb 
yesterday.  In  the  evening  Webb  took  me  to  a  revue 
called  "Bubbly,"  which  was  very  amusing.  I  hope  all 
is  well  with  you  at  Cadoxton. 

The  following  note  on  the  Gorsedd  Circle,  by  the 
Revd.  Mardy  Rees,  is  here  reprinted  (slightly  abbre- 
viated) with  the  author's  permission : 

The  Gorsedd  (throne)  circle  is  exciting  a  good  deal  of  in- 
terest; and  English  friends  frequently  ask  what  is  the  origin 
and  meaning  of  the  Gorsedd.  It  has  been  said  that  the  circle 
represents  a  temple  of  religion,  a  court  of  justice,  the  twelve 
counties  of  Wales,  and  so  forth.  Personally,  we  believe  that 
its  chief  purpose  was  astronomical.  It  takes  us  back  four  thou- 
sand years  at  least,  to  the  days  when  there  were  no  clocks  or 
almanacks.  The  Druids  were  able  by  means  of  the  stones  in 
the  circle  to  tell  the  time  of  night  as  well  as  of  the  day,  and 


CHRISTOI'HER JULY,    1917. 

WEf-SII    OUABDS    SECTION. 


WELSH  GUARDS  215 

of  the  year.  They  watched  the  clock  stars,  especially  the 
Pleiades,  which  became  visible  about  an  hour  before  sunrise 
on  May  ist.  This  was  important,  as  they  offered  a  sacrifice 
at  sunrise  at  that  season  of  the  year.  The  stones  also  gave 
people  the  points  of  the  compass. 

The  Druids  kept  the  secrets  themselves,  and  only  the  ini- 
tiated knew  them.  They  died,  but  the  secrets  have  been  dis- 
covered by  later  generations.  A  great  authority  on  the  Gorsedd 
states  that  the  principles  of  the  ancient  circle  are  incorporated 
in  every  old  parish  church  in  the  country.  The  church  took 
the  place  of  the  Gorsedd. 

Sir  Norman  Lockyer  believes  that  the  Welsh  circle  con- 
tained all  the  characteristic  features  of  several  Egyptian  tem- 
ples. He  refers  to  the  Temple  of  Amen-Ra,  with  its  avenue 
of  stone  pillars,  a  quarter  of  a  mile  long.  At  the  end  of  the 
avenue,  in  a  darkened  chamber,  was  the  image  of  Ra.  Once 
in  the  year,  about  June  2 1st,  at  set  of  sun,  a  golden  shaft  of 
light  would  strike  the  face  of  the  image  in  this  chamber,  and 
the  worshippers  believed  that  they  had  seen  the  face  of  their 
god.  It  was  a  natural  phenomenon,  but  only  the  priests  knew 
that.  This  chamber  was  situated  where  the  two  outside  pillars 
of  stone  stand  to-day,  in  the  Gorsedd  circle. 

There  is  an  old  Welsh  tradition  that  he  who  spends  a  night 
in  the  mystic  circle  will  be  either  a  bard  or  a  lunatic.  In  other 
words,  a  son  of  the  light  or  darkness.  The  throne  of  the  bard 
is  very  old.  It  is  anterior  to  that  of  the  king  or  bishop.  Civ- 
ilisation has  dethroned  the  bard,  but  he  still  holds  his  place 
in  the  life  of  the  Nation. 

The  Proclamation  of  the  National  Eisteddfod  of 
the  year  1918  by  the  Gorsedd  of  the  Bards  was  held 
in  Neath  on  June  28th.  It  was  a  memorable  day  for 
that  ancient  town.  Those  who  were  to  take  part  in 
the  Procession  to  the  Gorsedd  Circle  assembled  in  the 
robing  room,  where  a  large  number  of  Bards  wearing 
their  robes  awaited  them.  Here  the  regalia,  consisting 
of  the  Gorsedd  sword,  banner,  divided  sword,  and  Hir- 
las  horn,  was  set  out  in  readiness  to  be  borne  through 


216  CHRISTOPHER 

the  streets.  The  Hirlas  horn,  presented  by  Lord  Tred- 
egar in  1897,  was  designed  by  Herkomer,  and  is  one 
of  the  most  beautiful  of  Welsh  treasures.  Headed  by 
a  band,  the  Procession  wended  its  way  through  the 
principal  streets  of  the  town — which  now,  alas!  like 
so  many  centres  of  industrial  life,  shows  little  trace  of 
its  past  history. 

In  Roman  times  Nidium  was  an  important  place  on 
the  Via  Julia,  and  in  the  Middle  Ages  it  played  a  no 
mean  part  in  Welsh  history.  The  castle  is  said  to  have 
been  built  in  1090  by  Richard  de  Granville,  one  of  the 
twelve  Norman  Knights  of  Robert  Fitzhamon,  the 
conqueror  of  Glamorgan.  In  1231  the  castle  was  cap- 
tured by  Llewellyn,  Prince  of  North  Wales,  who  is 
said  to  have  razed  it  to  the  ground  and  to  have  exter- 
minated the  inhabitants.  It  was  afterwards  rebuilt, 
and  Edward  II.,  while  passing  through  South  Wales 
raising  forces  to  contend  against  his  rebellious  Queen, 
Isabella,  was  captured  and  imprisoned  within  its  walls. 
To-day  only  the  portcullis  gate  and  towers  remain 
standing. 

Neath  is  one  of  the  most  ancient  boroughs  in  the 
country,  a  charter  having  been  granted  to  the  burgesses 
by  one  of  the  Earls  of  Gloucester  as  far  back  as  the 
twelfth  century.  The  ruins  of  Neath  Abbey — once 
"the  fairest  abbey  in  all  Wales" — lie  a  mile  to  the 
west  of  the  town.  Founded  in  1 129  for  Grey  Friars,  it 
was  granted  at  its  dissolution  in  1539  to  Sir  Richard 
Williams,  alias  Cromwell,  a  great-grandfather  of  the 
Protector. 


WELSH  GUARDS  217 

After  perambulating  the  main  streets,  crowded  with 
miners  from  the  neighbouring  valleys,  the  Gorsedd  Pro- 
cession (in  which  Christopher  took  part,  walking  im- 
mediately before  the  Gorsedd  Banner)  made  its  way 
to  the  Bardic  Circle,  fourteen  great  monoliths  set  up 
to  form  a  large  circle  round  a  fine  central  logan.  These 
stones  had  for  the  most  part  been  presented  by  the 
landowners  of  the  district.  Christopher  had  taken  a 
special  interest  in  searching  for  and  deciding  on  a  stone 
to  be  given  from  the  Tennant  Estate.  The  stones  must 
be  untouched  by  chisel,  of  a  certain  height  and  size, 
and  it  was  long  before  one  was  found  which  satisfied 
the  requirements  of  the  Gorsedd  and  the  individual 
taste  of  members  of  the  family. 

One  was  discovered  at  last,  over  6  feet  high  and 
about  18  inches  broad,  lying  partly  covered  with  earth 
in  the  woods  on  the  hillside  above  Cadoxton  Lodge,  a 
great  grey  block  of  Pennant  rock,  the  local  stone  of 
the  county. 

It  had  been  set  up,  together  with  the  other  thirteen 
stones,  in  the  Victoria  Gardens,  and  there  the  proclama- 
tion that  the  National  Eisteddfod  of  Wales  of  1918 
would  be  held  in  Neath  took  place. 

The  old  decree  runs:  "The  Gorsedd  and  Chair  of 
the  Bards  of  the  Isle  of  Britain  shall  be  held  in  the  face 
of  the  Sun  and  Eye  of  Light,  and  in  the  free  open  sky, 
so  that  it  may  be  seen  and  heard  of  all." 

After  the  sounding  of  the  Corn  Gwlad,  or  Trumpet 
of  the  Fatherland,  the  Gorsedd  Prayer  was  offered  by 
one  of  the  Bards.    It  may  be  translated  as  follows : 


218  CHRISTOPHER 

"Give  us,  O  God,  Thy  protection. 
And  in  Thy  protection  strength. 
And  in  strength  understanding. 
And  in  understanding  to  know. 

And  in  knowing  the  knowledge  of  the  Righteous  One, 
And  in  knowing  Him  to  love  Him, 
And  in  loving  Him  to  love  every  essential  being, 
And  in  loving  every  essential  being  to  love  God  and  every 
goodness." 

Standing  on  the  central  Logan  Stone  in  his  robes, 
the  Archdruid  made  the  Proclamation,  and  was  pre- 
sented with  the  Cup  of  Welcome.  Addresses  by  the 
Bards,  interspersed  with  Penillion  singing  to  the  ac- 
companiment of  the  harp,  followed.  It  was  a  moving 
scene.  Within  the  circle  stood  the  Bards  in  their 
bright-coloured  robes.  Ringed  around  it  was  a  seated 
crowd,  including  a  large  number  of  girls  wearing  the 
Welsh  national  costume;  beyond,  again,  a  vast  mass 
of  men  and  women  stood,  and  the  amphitheatre  of  hills 
rose  upwards  half  veiled  in  the  haze  of  a  perfect  sum- 
mer's day. 

Few  of  those  present  will  ever  forget  the  moment 
when,  the  whole  audience  rising  to  its  feet  and  every 
man  in  uniform  standing  rigid  at  attention,  the  Na- 
tional Anthem  of  Wales,  Hen  Wlad  fy  Nhadau,  burst 
forth  in  volumes  of  glorious  sound,  rising  and  falling 
on  the  air — sung  as  only  a  Welsh  crowd  sings,  in 
harmony  and  with  pure  and  perfect  intonation. 
It  was  the  climax  of  a  day  charged  with  deep  emo- 
ticm. 


WELSH  GUARDS  219 

Cymru  am  byth! 

It  was  Christopher's  passionate  desire  that  the  Welsh  Guards 
should  become  officially  connected  with  the  annual  celebration 
of  the  National  Eisteddfod,  and  his  fixed  determination  was  to 
work  towards  the  establishment  of  such  a  tradition  at  the  ensu- 
ing Eisteddfod,  which  was  to  be  held  in  his  native  town. 
Though  he  did  not  live  to  do  the  work  he  had  contemplated,  it 
was  carried  on  by  other  hands,  and  as  a  result  the  Regiment 
was  for  the  first  time  officially  represented  at  the  National 
Eisteddfod  of  1918.  Colonel  Murray-Threipland,  D.S.O., 
commanding  the  Welsh  Guards,  the  Regimental  Adjutant, 
Captain  the  Earl  of  Lisburne,  Captain  Fox-Pitt,  M.C.,  and 
Lieut.  G.  C.  H.  Crawshay,  were  present  as  official  guests,  and, 
together  with  close  upon  a  hundred  men  of  the  Regiment,  took 
part  in  the  Gorsedd  and  other  ceremonies  held  in  connection 
with  the  National  Festival.  The  Regimental  Male  Voice  Choir 
competed  in  the  Male  Voice  Choral  Competition,  being  placed 
second  in  order  of  merit  by  the  Adjudicators,  and  receiving  a 
great  ovation  from  the  vast  crowd  of  over  ten  thousand  people 
assembled  in  the  Pavilion.  Within  the  Gorsedd  Circle  one  of 
the  most  eloquent  of  the  addresses  delivered  from  the  Maen 
Llog  (the  great  central  Logan  Stone)  called  upon  Welshmen 
to  remember  Christopher  Tennant,  who  had  stood  within  that 
Circle  when  the  Eisteddfod  was  proclaimed,  as  the  type  of 
patriot  which  young  Welshmen  should  desire  to  emulate. 

Writing  of  the  events  of  those  days,  one  of  his  brother- 
officers  who  took  part  in  them  sums  up  his  impressions  in  the 
following  words: — 

"August  i^ih,  1918. 
"To  me,  at  least,  the  whole  Eisteddfod  programme  seemed 
to  centre  round  Christopher.  I  couldn't  help  feeling  that  in 
spirit  he  was  present,  and  that  he  knew  his  ambition  to  see 
the  Regiment  represented  at  Neath  had  been  realised.  I  know 
that  the  wonderful  reception  we  received  on  mounting  the  plat- 
form was  intended  just  as  much  for  him,  and  the  others  who 
are  with  him,  as  it  was  intended  for  those  who  were  actually 
the  subject  of  it.  You  remember  that  when  I  first  wrote  to 
you  I  said  that  his  great  sacrifice  would  not  be  in  vain;  and 


220  CHRISTOPHER 

already  his  influence  is  being  felt.  Let  us  hope  that  genera- 
tions of  Welshmen  will  follow  him  in  the  example  he  set,  by 
pride  of  race  and  nobility  of  character." 

Saturday^  June  opth. 

Dearest  Mother, — I  got  back  safely  yesterday, 
and  everyone  was  much  interested  in  the  Gorsedd.  I 
gave  Fox-Pitt  a  glowing  account  I 

I  am  going  on  a  bombing  course,  starting  Monday, 
and  it  lasts  a  fortnight.  I  shall  be  sleeping  at  Rich- 
mond Terrace  every  night.  The  course  is  at  ten,  and 
is  over  at  three  every  day.  No  time  for  more. — Ever 
your  loving 

Cruff. 

On  July  5th  his  mother  joined  him  in  London. 
Their  first  excitement  was  the  daylight  air-raid  on  July 
7th,  in  which  both  found  themselves  in  positions  of 
considerable  "liveliness,"  though  in  widely  separated 
localities.  Tannhduser  in  the  afternoon  and  Brieux's 
Three  Daughters  of  M.  Dupont  in  the  evening  closed 
a  rather  strenuous  day.  On  the  9th  the  photograph  of 
Christopher  included  in  this  volume  was  taken  by 
Beresford. 

The  Recruiting  Exemptions  Committee  was  at  this 
time  sitting  in  the  Grand  Committee  Room  of  the 
House  of  Commons,  and  a  long  afternoon  was  spent 
there,  his  Mother's  work  on  the  Neath  Rural  District 
War  Pensions  Committee  having  roused  the  keen  in- 
terest of  the  family  in  the  questions  upon  which  the 
Committee  was  then  taking  evidence. 

The  ritual  of  ices  at  Gunter's  was  not  forgotten  (p. 


WELSH  GUARDS  221 

92).  Two  characteristic  incidents  belong  to  this  period. 
Walking  one  day  with  his  mother  through  Westmin- 
ster Cathedral  and  examining  the  beautiful  mosaics 
and  marbles  of  the  side  chapels,  Christopher  noted  that 
whereas  chapels  of  St.  George,  St.  Andrew  and  St. 
Patrick  were  to  be  found,  none  appeared  to  have  been 
dedicated  to  St.  David.  Striding  up  to  the  lady  chapel, 
he  sought  a  priest,  and,  saying  he  was  "from  Wales," 
inquired  where  the  chapel  of  his  patron  saint  was  situ- 
ated. On  being  informed  that  none  at  present  existed, 
he  expressed  his  surprise  and  regret  in  very  plain  lan- 
guage, leaving  the  priest  in  visible  bewilderment  as  to 
who  this  young  giant  from  Wales  could  be. 

Is  it  too  much  to  hope  that  as  a  memorial  to  the  sons 
of  Wales  fallen  in  the  war  a  replica  of  Goscombe 
John's  beautiful  statue  of  St.  David,  presented  to  the 
City  Hall,  Cardiff,  by  Lord  Rhondda,  may  be  set  up 
in  one  of  the  side  chapels  of  Westminster  Cathedral? 

Equally  characteristic  was  an  incident  in  connection 
with  the  purchase  of  an  automatic  pistol  at  the  Army 
and  Navy  Stores.  It  was  necessary  to  obtain  a  permit 
before  one  could  be  supplied,  and  this  involved  the 
filling  up  of  an  official  form.  Instructed  by  the  fore- 
man of  the  Gun  Department,  Christopher  was  success- 
fully negotiating  its  intricacies  until  they  came  to  the 
space  reserved  for  "Nationality."  "Put  'English'  there, 
sir,"  said  the  foreman.  "English!  but  I'm  not  Eng- 
lish," the  boy  answered,  flushing;  and  in  the  space  re- 
served he  inked  in  in  capital  letters,  the  word 
"WELSH." 


222  CHRISTOPHER 

One  week-end  and  another  long  Sunday  were  spent 
with  the  beloved  "Aunt  Betty"  of  the  letters,  Lady 
Betty  Balfour,  at  Fisher's  Hill,  near  Woking,  where 
the  garden  was  at  its  loveliest  and  the  Surrey  commons 
which  surround  it  gay  with  field  flowers. 

Both  in  the  Lewis  gun  course  and  in  the  bombing 
course  Christopher  obtained  a  first. 

Tadworth^  July  l6/A,  19 1 7- 
I  arrived  here  safely  last  night,  feeling  very  lone- 
some at  having  to  part  from  you.  I  travelled  down 
with  Fox-Pitt.  There  are  two  new  Ensigns,  but  I  have 
not  seen  much  of  them  yet;  they  come  from  Wales,  I 
think.  I  shall  be  on  Sunday  duty  next  Sunday,  I  fear, 
which  means  dining  in  Saturday  and  Sunday  evening. 
However,  I  am  trying  hard  to  get  someone  to  do  it 
for  me,  and  I  will  let  you  know  if  I  succeed.  It  is 
quite  possible  I  shall  get  someone.  I  went  out  this 
morning  with  the  Training  Company,  who  dug 
trenches.  This  afternoon  I  took  2  o'clock  parade  of 
the  Company.  Carlyon  is  going  to  the  front  next 
week,  and  has  just  gone  on  a  few  days'  leave.  Every- 
thing is  much  the  same  as  when  I  left.  We  are  hav- 
ing night  operations  to-morrow.  Major  Dene  is  back 
and  in  command  of  the  Company.  I  enjoyed  our  time 
so  much,  especially  Fisher's  Hill  at  the  end.  Even  if 
I  cannot  get  off  Sunday  duty,  I  shall  try  and  come  for 
the  afternoon,  as  I  must  see  you  once  more  before  you 
go  to  Wales.  .  .  . 

Julyjth,  1917. 
Dearest  Mother, — I  have  wired  you  to-day,  as  I 
can  come  next  week-end,  having  got  someone  else  to 


WELSH  GUARDS  228 

do  Sunday  duty  for  me.  My  blue  hat  has  turned  up 
from  the  Lost  Property  Office  at  Waterloo!  I  must 
have  left  it  in  the  train,  and  am  glad  to  get  it  back. 

I  have  been  writing  in  my  Red  Book  (which  you 
gave  me)  partly  autobiography  and  partly  meditations 
on  various  subjects — which  you  must  read  some  day.^ 

We  were  to  have  had  Regimental  Sports  to-day  with 
our  own  Welsh  Guards  band,  but  they  have  put  it  off, 
as  it  is  raining. 

All  well  here.  We  had  a  lecture  on  Tactics  this 
morning  by  Marshall  Roberts. — Ever  your  loving 

Cruff. 

July  igtk,  1917. 
We  had  Regimental  Sports  to-day — I  enclose  pro- 
gramme. I  ran  in  the  Officers'  Race  (100  yards).  It 
is  item  20  on  the  list,  and  gave  much  pleasure  to  the 
men!  One  got  a  yard's  start  for  each  year's  service. 
Marshall  Roberts  had  sixteen  yards'  start — and  won 
the  race!  I  was  sixth.  The  band  came  down  from 
London  and  played;  it  was  delicious. 

July  28/^,  1917. 

I  went  to  a  dance  yesterday  evening,  which  I  en- 
joyed immensely.  It  was  given  by  our  Regimental 
Adjutant,  Crawshay.  He  is  now  a  great  friend  of 
mine. 

All  sorts  of  interesting  people  were  there,  and  I 
danced  the  whole  time  with  various  people.  All  well 
here.    I  am  going  to  Winchester  to-morrow. 

^See  pp.   104  and   113. 


224  CHRISTOPHER 

July  31J/,  1917. 

I  enjoyed  my  visit  to  Winchester  very  much — every- 
body there  very  cordial  and  pleased  to  see  me — espe- 
cially Monte.  I  had  brew^  with  the  prefects.  Webb 
did  not  come,  as  he  has  gone  on  draft  leave.  It  has 
been  pouring  with  rain  here  all  day  and  all  last  night, 
but  I  am  well  and  happy. 

The  Commanding  Officer  has  told  me  to  be  inocu- 
lated this  week,  here,  by  the  doctor  attached  to  our 
Regiment.  He  has  got  all  the  stuff,  etc.  There  is  no 
news  to  tell  you.  I  read  the  Daily  News  every  day, 
which  I  get  regularly.  How  amusing  the  people  at 
Neath  mistaking  me  for  the  Prince  of  Wales!  I  en- 
joyed the  dance  very  much.  I  am  quite  a  good  dancer, 
and  enjoy  it.  People  only  dance  one-steps  and  fox- 
trots nowadays,  with  a  waltz  occasionally.  I  can  dance 
all  those. 

On  August  2nd  he  arrived  home  on  draft  leave. 
Those  who  have  passed  through  such  days  know  all 
there  is  to  be  known  of  their  poignant  sweetness  and 
agony;  those  to  whom  such  days  have  not  come  can 
only  dimly  understand. 

Home  is  enfolding  its  children  together,  perhaps  for 
the  last  time;  youth  must  fare  forth  to  unnumbered 
and  unknown  dangers,  while  love  can  only  stay  be- 
hind, to  stand  and  wait.  Elderly  folk  who  have 
watched  the  baby  pass  into  childhood,  from  childhood 
to  boyhood,  and  from  boyhood  to  the  first  stage  of 
early  manhood,  come  to  take  leave  of  their  lad — their 

'Tea. 


WELSH  GUARDS  225 

sense  of  possession  in  him  strong  with  the  links  which 
country  life,  perhaps,  alone  can  give;  small  brothers 
are  round-eyed  and  troubled  at  the  general  stir  and  at 
the  news  that  he  who  is  half  their  world  is  "going  to 
the  war." 

Pilgrimages  are  made  to  places  roimd  which  happy 
memories  are  twined.  Silences  fall,  too  precious  to  be 
broken  "by  fragmentary  speech." 

"Since  in  that  hour  the  still  souls  held  as  nought 
The  body's  beauty  or  brain's  responsive  thought, 
Content  to  feel  that  life  in  life  had  grown 
Separate  no  longer,  but  one  life  alone; 
Ay,  and  they  guessed  thereby  what  life  shall  be 
When  Love  world-wide  has  shown  his  mystery." 

And  mixed  with  all  this  sense  of  the  mystery  and  the 
beauty  and  the  tragedy  of  life  is  the  necessity  of  clear- 
headed Martha-ing  over  details  of  kit  and  equipment. 
It  was  during  these  days  that  Mother  and  Son  arranged 
together  what  each  would  do  and  each  would  aim  at  if 
the  seeming  separation  of  bodily  death  rose  suddenly 
between  them.^  The  days  were  very  full,  but  time 
was  snatched  for  walks  to  places  beloved  on  hillside 
and  in  wood ;  the  evenings  brought  the  comfort  of  Bee- 
thoven sonatas;  and  some  special  treasures  of  English 
literature  were  shared  again  by  reading  aloud : — E.  B. 
B.'s  "Sonnets  from  the  Portuguese,"  vi.,  which  was 
the  keynote  of  the  parting;  Kettle's  lovely  lines  to  his 
little  daughter  written  "In  the  Field  before  Guillemont, 

^See   Chap.   IV. 


226  CHRISTOPHER 

Somme,  September  4th,  1916,"  ending  with  those  ring- 
ing words  on  the  fallen — who 

**^Died  not  for  flag,  nor  king,  nor  emperor. 
But  for  a  dream,  born  in  a  herdsman's  shed, 
And  for  the  Secret  Scripture  of  the  Poor." 

Also  a  splendid  poem  by  Ralph  Hodgson,  "The  Song 
of  Honour,"  new  to  Christopher,  which  made  a  great 
impression  upon  him;  and,  at  his  special  wish,  the  let- 
ter written  by  Mr.  Britling  after  his  own  son's  death 
to  the  old  German  couple  who  were  the  parents  of 
Herr  Heinrich,  in  the  last  chapter  of  Wells's  master- 
piece.    "Our  sons  who  have  shown  us  God.  .  .  ." 

On  Bank  Holiday,  August  6th,  Christopher  left  his 
home  for  the  last  time.  Of  all  the  farewells  of  those 
last  days  this  was  the  only  one  which  moved  him  to 
outward  expression  of  emotion.  The  old  Welsh  house 
in  that  far-away  Welsh  valley  held  for  him  something 
of  the  essence,  as  it  were,  of  his  own  being;  and  to  leave 
it  was  a  "death  in  life"  which  cut  him  to  the  quick. 
Pater's  words  best  describe  the  link  which  bound  him 
to  it: 

"The  house  in  which  she  lives  is  for  the  orderly  soul  which 
does  not  live  on  blindly  before  her,  but  is  ever,  out  of  her 
passing  experiences,  building  and  adorning  the  parts  of  a 
many-roomed  abode  for  herself,  only  an  expansion  of  the 
body;  as  the  body  is  but  an  expansion  of  the  soul.  For  such 
an  orderly  soul,  as  she  lives  onward,  all  sorts  of  delicate  affini- 
ties establish  themselves,  between  her  and  the  doors  and  pas- 
sage-ways, the  lights  and  shadows  of  her  outward  abode,  until 
she  seems  Incorporate  Into  it — till  at  last,  in  the  entire  expres- 
siveness of  what  is  outward,  there  is  for  her,  to  speak  properly. 


WELSH  GUARDS  227 

no  longer  any  distinction  between  outward  and  inward  at  all; 
and  the  light  which  creeps  at  a  particular  hour  on  a  wall,  the 
scent  of  flowers  in  the  air  at  a  particular  window,  become  to 
her,  not  so  much  apprehended  objects,  as  themselves  powers 
of  apprehension,  and  doorways  to  things  beyond — seeds  or 
rudiments  of  new  faculties,  by  which  she,  dimly  yet  surely, 
apprehends  a  matter  lying  beyond  her  actually  attained  ca- 
pacity of  sense  and  spirit." 

His  mother  travelled  with  him  to  London,  and  there 
two  strenuous  days  were  spent  in  collecting  the  neces- 
sary items  of  Active  Service  kit  and  equipment.  On 
the  Wednesday  morning  he  returned  to  Tadworth  and 
heard  that  he  was  to  cross  to  France  on  the  morrow 
with  a  draft  of  about  150  men  of  the  Welsh  Guards, 
the  other  officer  in  charge  being  Lieut.  R.  W.  Har- 
greaves.  Obtaining  a  few  hours'  leave,  he  returned  to 
London  and  rejoined  his  mother,  travelling  back  to 
Tadworth  again  in  the  evening. 

On  Thursday,  August  9th,  they  met  at  Waterloo 
Station  and  had  forty  minutes  together.  The  draft 
had  come  up  from  Tadworth  by  train,  and  the  men 
were  lined  up  and  marched  to  the  platform  from  which 
they  were  to  entrain  for  Southampton.  A  finer  body 
of  Welshmen  it  would  have  been  hard  to  find.  The 
air  rang  with  the  sound  of  their  voices,  the  beautiful 
melodies  of  Aberystwith,  "The  Men  of  Harlech," 
"Hen  Wlad  fy  Nhadau,"  making  "a  sunshine  in  the 
shady  place."  Ordinary  travellers  who  found  them- 
selves in  the  station  had  the  delight  of  listening  to  a 
male-voice  choir  giving  an  impromptu  concert. 

Six  officers  of  the  Welsh  Guards  left  for  the  front 


228  CHRISTOPHER 

on  that  day.  Lieut.  R.  W.  Hargreaves  and  Sec-Lieut. 
G.  C.  S.  Tennant  in  charge  of  the  draft,  and  Sec.-Lieuts. 
Webb,  Devereux,  Ballard,  and  Llewellyn  travelling 
separately.  Of  these  six,  four  have  been  killed  in  ac- 
tion :  G.  C.  S.  Tennant  on  September  3rd,  R.  W.  Har- 
greaves and  T.  H.  B.  Webb  on  December  1st,  and  C. 
P.  Ballard  on  March  10th,  1918.  Sec-Lieut.  Devereux 
has  been  wounded  and  sent  home,  and  Sec-Lieut.  Paul 
Llewellyn  was  dangerously  wounded  in  March,  1918; 
so  that  of  the  six  not  one  remains,  at  the  time  of  writ- 
ing, on  active  service. 


CHAPTER  XI 


ON    ACTIVE    SERVICE 


"Burningly  it  came  on  me  all  at  once, 
This  was  the  place !  .  .  . 

What  in  the  midst  lay  but  the  Tower  itself  ?  .  .  » 

.  .  .  noise  was  everywhere !  it  tolled 

Increasing  like  a  bell.    Names  in  my  ears 

Of  all  the  lost  adventurers  my  peers, — 
How  such  a  one  was  strong,  and  such  was  bold, 
And  such  was  fortunate,  yet  each  of  old 

Lost,  lost!  one  moment  knelled  the  woe  of  years. 

There  they  stood,  ranged  along  the  hillsides,  met 
To  view  the  last  of  me,  a  living  frame 
For  one  more  picture !  in  a  sheet  of  flame 

I  saw  them  and  I  knew  them  all.    And  yet 

Dauntless  the  slug-horn  to  my  lips  I  set. 

And  blew.    'Ckilde  Roland  to  the  Dark  Tower  came.'  " 
Robert  Browning,  "Childe  Roland." 

Guards^  Division,  Base  Depot,  B.E.F.,  France. 

August  loth,  1917. 
Dearest  Mother, — I  have  just  arrived  at  the  Base, 
and  have  been  unable  to  wire  so  far,  but  may  do  so 
later  if  I  can. 

We  censor  our  own  letters  here! 
When  I  left  you  we  went  straight  to  Southampton. 
After  waiting  about  an  hour  we  embarked  there — ^no 
weighing  of  kits,  etc. 

229 


280  CHRISTOPHER 

I  was  very  distressed  at  having  to  leave  you,  but  I 
expect  we  shall  be  here  for  some  time.  We  left  South- 
ampton about  four  o'clock  yesterday,  but  did  not  really 
do  the  crossing  till  night. 

I  slept  on  deck  in  my  sleeping  bag  and  on  the  air- 
bed.   Hobbs  is  a  very  efficient  servant. 

We  missed  the  tide  coming  here,  so  we  could  not 
land  in  France  till  about  3  p.m.  to-day,  Friday.  There 
were  a  lot  of  American  officers  on  board.  The  boat 
was  quite  a  large  one,  the .  It  had  been  a  Ger- 
man one,  and  was  captured  from  them.  We  had  quite 
a  smooth  crossing,  and  nobody  was  ill. 

Then  we  disembarked  and  marched  to  the  Camp, 
about  five  or  six  miles  off  from  where  we  disembarked. 
The  roads  were  rough,  and  people  sold  us  apples  and 
chocolate  on  the  way.  Then  we  got  here.  It  is  a  very 
large  Camp,  and  there  are  officers  whom  I  know  in 
other  Regiments  of  the  Brigade. 

The  men  are  cheerful  and  happy.  I  expect  to  be 
here  for  some  time.  .  .  .  We  have  a  lot  of  Orders, 
etc.,  to  read,  and  I  will  write  again  when  I  know  more. 
I  share  a  tent  with  Hargreaves.^  Other  officers  are  in 
huts.  I  will  write  again  soon.  God  bless  you. — 
Your  loving  Cruff. 

August  loth,  1917. 

Second  letter. 

I  have  got  a  tent  with  Hargreaves,  and  Hobbs  has 

put  out  all  my  bed,  etc.    It  is  very  like  being  in  camp 

at  Tadworth,  here.     We  are  allowed  into  the  town 

(there  are  trams),  but  must  not  be  there  after  10  p.m. 

*  Killed  in  action,  December  1st,  1917. 


ON  ACTIVE  SERVICE  281 

Llewellyn,  Webb,  and  Ballard  are  here,  but  Har- 
greaves  and  I  do  all  the  work  with  the  draft,  and  they 
are  separate. 

I  really  expect  to  be  here  about  a  month.  I  hear  the 
Kaiser  says  the  war  will  be  over  in  three  weeks  I 

You  are  all  constantly  in  my  thoughts.  You  must 
imagine  me  in  Camp  here — just  like  Tad  worth,  and 
perfectly  safe — for  some  time — though  the  work  is 
harder. 

There  are  large  notices  everywhere  cautioning  us 
against  spies.  I  shall  soon  find  out  the  ropes,  though 
everything  is  rather  strange  at  first.  We  are  high  up 
here,  and  can  see  the  sea  in  the  distance.  Good-night, 
mother  dear.  All  well  here.  Do  you  remember  Goff, 
who  was  at  West  Downs*?  He  is  here  in  the  Scots 
Guards.  I  shall  write  again  when  I  have  more  de- 
tails to  tell  you.  The  Picquet  Officer  censors  all  the 
letters.  A  long  job  that,  I  should  imagine.  Write 
and  tell  me  all  you  want  to  know.  I  can  write  with 
a  great  sense  of  privacy,  being  my  own  censor!  God 
bless  you. 

Guards'*  Division^  Base  Depots  B.E.F. 

August  12M,  1917. 

We  are  allowed  to  say  that  we  are  at  camp  in  Har- 
fleur,  near  Havre.  We  have  got  150  men.  Hargreaves 
and  I  belong  to  this  draft,  but  the  other  officers  are 
separate. 

I  went  into  Havre  yesterday  with  Llewellyn,  and 
we  sat  in  cafes  and  talked  French  at  great  length — 
at  least  I  did — Llewellyn  can't  speak  French.  Then 
we  had  tea  at  a  cafe,  and  I  also  had  my  hair  cut — 


232  CHRISTOPHER 

the  barber  put  all  sorts  of  unguents  on!     I  enjoy 
talking  French  to  the  inhabitants  of  Havre! 

August  l4.th,  1917. 

Dearest  Mother, — All  well  here.  Yesterday  we 
had  a  long  day  of  training  at  the  Camp.  We  did  gas 
all  day,  and  we  all  went  through  poison  gas  with 
respirators  on. 

On  Sunday  we  had  Church  in  the  morning,  and  I 
attended  the  parade.  Hargreaves  has  been  warned 
that  he  will  go  up  to  the  Entrenching  Battalion,  just 
behind  the  front  lines,  shortly,  and  I  now  go  out  in 
command  of  our  draft  (150) !  The  men  are  a  splen- 
did lot,  and  I  have  been  able  to  get  to  know  them  bet- 
ter over  here — privates  and  N.C.O.'s. 

On  Sunday  I  went  into  Havre  and  talked  French  at 
great  length.  That  sort  of  practice  makes  me  much 
more  familiar  with  the  language. 

August  i^tk,  1917. 
Dearest  Mother, — I  am  leaving  here  this  eve- 
ning and  going  straight  to  the  1st  Battalion.  All  our 
officers  (except  Llewellyn  who  is  in  hospital — I  don't 
know  what  is  the  matter  with  him)  are  going  straight 
up  to  the  1st  Battalion,  and  not  to  the  Entrenching 
Battalion  at  all.  Hobbs  is  coming  with  me.  He  was 
here  last  year,  and  says  it  took  him  three  days  to  get 
up  to  the  front.  The  train  used  to  go  so  slowly  that 
people  got  out  and  walked  along,  and  then  caught  it 
up  and  got  in  again!  It  may  be  quicker  getting  up 
now.  I  am  not  sure  where  our  1st  Battalion  is.  Prob- 
ably resting,  I  should  think.    I  expect  our  letters  will 


ON  ACTIVE  SERVICE  233 

be  censored  up  there.  We  start  at  6.30  p.m.  to-day, 
and  I  will  write  again  as  soon  as  we  reach  our  desti- 
nation. 

My  eye  is  quite  all  right  this  morning;  the  swelling 
has  gone  down  completely  on  the  eyelid,  and  I  have 
not  been  bitten  by  any  more  mosquitoes. 

Well,  dear  Mother,  you  are  ever  in  my  thoughts, 
and  you  know  what  I  feel,  better  than  I  can  express 
it.  I  know  you  will  be  with  me  all  through  the  com- 
ing days,  and  our  love  can  bridge  all  distances. 

Do  not  be  anxious  or  worried ;  I  know  I  shall  return 
safe  to  you.  I  shall  write  to  you  constantly,  and  think 
of  you  all  at  Cadoxton.  Give  my  love  to  Deedooge. 
God  bless  you.  Mother  dear.  I  shall  take  great  care 
of  myself,  and  come  through  everything  all  right. — 
Ever  your  loving  and  affectionate 

Christopher. 

August  I'-jth,  1917. 
I  am  writing  from  a  place  en  route}  We  left  the 
base  on  Wednesday  evening,  and  travelled  all  night.  I 
slept  in  the  train.  In  the  morning  we  reached  a  town 
the  name  of  which  I  must  not  say.^  It  is  a  delicious 
quaint  place.  I  went  over  the  Cathedral — most  lovely. 
We  had  a  few  hours  there,  and  who  do  you  think  I 
met  in  the  street  but  Betty  Haggard*?  ^  She  was  very 
pleased  to  see  me,  but  I  had  not  time  to  see  much  of 
her. 

*Etaples.  *  Rouen. 

•The  widow  of  Captain  Mark  Haggard,  Welsh  Regiment,  killed 
in  action  September,  1914.  His  dying  cry,  "Stick  it,  the  Welsh!"  will 
never  be  forgotten  in  the  Principality.  Christopher  had  spent  many 
happy  days  with  Mrs.  Haggard  before  her  marriage,  at  the  home  of 
her  parents  in  the  Vale  of  Neath. 


284  CHRISTOPHER 

Then  we  travelled  the  rest  of  the  day  and  all  the 
night,  during  which  we  slept.  I  went  on  the  engine 
for  part  of  the  way  and  talked  to  the  engine-driver. 

We  got  here  this  morning,  and  are  leaving  soon.  I 
do  not  know  our  destination.    Must  stop  now. 

August  iStk,  1917. 
All  well  here.  We  have  arrived  at  our  destination.^ 
I  wrote  to  you  en  route  on  Friday.  Well,  we  travelled 
on  to  railhead,  and  from  there  were  taken  to  the  Rein- 
forcement Camp  in  motor  lorries,  jolted  all  the  way! 
We  spent  that  night  in  the  Camp,  which  has  a  small 
farmhouse  for  the  officers  to  feed  in.  I  conversed  in 
French  with  the  inhabitants,  and  then  slept  in  a  tent. 
This  morning  we  had  to  walk  up  here,  getting  a  lift 
in  a  lorry  part  of  the  way.  We  are  now  out  of  the 
line,  and  the  Battalion  was  up  a  little  time  ago.  I 
will  write  to  you  at  greater  length  re  all  the  new  peo- 
ple I  meet  of  the  1st  Battalion.  We  are  now  at  our 
destination  for  the  moment.  I  have  lost  my  fountain 
pen.  Could  you  send  me  out  another? — medium  nib. 
Your  two  letters  I  got  here  this  morning  saying  you 
had  not  yet  heard.    Must  stop.    Will  write  again. 

August  18M.     Second  letter. 

Dearest  Mother, — I  wrote  to  you  a  few  hours 

ago,  a  hurried  letter.     There  are  four  Companies  in 

the  Battalion.    I  am  in  the  first  one,  called  The  Prince 

of  Wales's  Company — it  is  the  best  in  the  Battalion, 

*Petworth  Camp,  Proven. 


ON  ACTIVE  SERVICE  235 

and  the  Battalion  is  the  best  in  the  Army,  so  I  could 
not  wish  for  better.^ 

There  are  several  officers  here  whom  I  knew  at  Tad- 
worth. 

To  His  Father. 

August  igtk,  1917. 

Dearest  Deedooge, — I  have  not  written  to  you 
very  lately,  but  you  have  been  much  in  my 
thoughts.  ... 

You  will  have  heard  most  of  my  news  from  my 
letters  to  Mummy.  As  a  matter  of  fact  I  am  now  in 
Flanders — I  may  tell  you  that  much — and  a  little 
way  behind  the  line.  Last  night  we  suddenly  had  the 
order  all  lights  out  about  10  p.m.,  and  we  were  told 
the  Grerman  aeroplanes  were  over;  we  heard  bombs 
dropping  about  a  mile  off,  and  saw  shrapnel  bursting. 
It  looked  like  little  stars  which  came  and  then  disap- 
peared. The  Germans  come  over  round  here  fairly 
often,  they  say.  We  can  hear  the  guns  firing  at  night 
from  here,  though  only  faintly. 

This  morning  I  was  sitting  in  my  tent  after  break- 
fast when  I  heard  a  commotion,  and  rushed  out  just 
in  time  to  see  one  of  our  aeroplanes,  which  was  at  a 
good  height,  turn  nose  downwards  and  fall  with  a 
crash.  It  was  a  wonderful  sight.  The  aeroplane  fell 
very  rapidly,  and  landed  about  half  a  mile  away.  I 
do  not  know  what  the  cause  of  it  was.  I  may  not  tell 
you  where  we  shall  be  when  we  go  up  into  the  line; 
I  do  not  know  really  where  we  shall  go  to.  Last  time 
we  were  up  north  of  blank  and  south  of  blank!  and 

*  The  Motto  of  the  Company  is,  "Y  ddraig  goch  a  ddyry  gychwyn." 
(The  Red  Dragon  will  give  the  lead.) 


236 


CHRISTOPHER 


north-west  of  somewhere  else — where  the  Germans 
were  very  pressing.*  Martin  Smith  is  out  here,  but  he 
is  not  Adjutant. 

One  of  our  Sergeants  has  been  recommended  for 
the  V.C.,  but  I  do  not  know  if  he  has  got  it  yet. 

In  case  you  should  know  any  of  them,  our  officers 
are: 


Commanding  Officer 
Second  in  Command 


Captains 


Subalterns 


Ensigns 


Col.  Douglas  Gordon. 
Major  Luxmore  Ball. 

GiBBS. 

Lord  Lisburne. 
Roderick.^ 
Battye. 
Taylor. 
Martin  Smith. 
Newall.^ 
Menzies. 
-Hargreaves.* 
Devas  (Adjutant). 
Shand. 
Fripp. 
Lascelles. 
.Byrne.' 


And  those  who  came  out  with  me.     Also  de  Satge, 
Interpreter  (was  a  master  at  Eton). 

I  am  in  the  Prince  of  Wales's  Company.  It  is  al- 
ways known  by  that  name,  and  never  as  No.  i  Com- 
pany. 

*  Words  used  by  Raymond  Lodge  to  signify  Ypres.    See  "Raymond," 

p.  17- 
'Killed  in  action,  December   ist,   1917. 
'Killed  in  action,  October  12th,   1917. 

*  Killed  in  action,  December    ist,    1917. 
'Killed  in  action,  March   9th,   1918. 


ON  ACTIVE  SERVICE  287 

I  hope  all  is  well  with  you;  I  long  to  hear  from 
you,  dearest  Deedooge.  I  got  a  book  at  the  station 
to  read — "Woodstock,"  by  Scott.  Do  you  know  it*? 
Farewell. — Your  loving 

Christopher. 

P.S. — I  played  cricket  for  the  Prince  of  Wales's 
Company  yesterday,  and  am  playing  again  this  after- 
noon. 

Sunday,  August  igth,  1917,  10  a.m. 

Dearest  Mother, — The  General  of  the  Division 
(Feilding  is  his  name)  is  coming  down  this  morning 
to  present  decorations,  etc.,  to  various  men,  but  now 
he  cannot  come,  so  we  are  only  having  a  church  parade 
this  morning.  The  padre  here  is  a  good  fellow  (Mogg) 
and  has  a  sense  of  humour — an  excellent  thing  in 
padres  I 

I  did  so  enjoy  your  two  letters — I  know  all  you  feel, 
and  you  know  what  I  feel.  I  long  to  be  with  you,  but 
here  I  am  happy,  and  I  like  the  other  officers,  and 
I  shall  have  lots  to  tell  you  that  I  cannot  tell  you  now. 
We  get  ten  days  about  every  three  months,  so  I  shall 
be  back  soon,  and  we  can  get  leave  to  Paris  occasionally. 
You  could  come  over  to  Paris !  .  .  . 

Many  thanks  for  that  lovely  poem  ^ — which  I  shall 
keep.  I  get  my  Daily  News,  which  is  a  great  joy,  as 
there  are  no  papers  provided  here.  We  mess  in  a 
small  farm,  and  I  sleep  in  a  tent  which  I  am  sharing 
with  one  Bonsor,  who  is  in  Paris  at  present.  The  men 
are  very  wonderful — everyone  says  so — and  very 
Welsh. 

*Ebenezer   Elliot's  hymn,   "When   wilt  Thou   save   the   people?" 
See  p.  172. 


288  CHRISTOPHER 

August  20/^,  1917. 

Dearest  Mother, — ^All  well.  .  .  .  Llewellyn  is 
still  at  the  Base  in  hospital  with  some  sort  of  fever. 
He  is  not  seriously  ill  at  all. 

Now  for  my  news.  Yesterday  I  played  cricket  in 
the  afternoon  for  the  Prince  of  Wales's  Company.  In 
the  evening  German  aeroplanes  again  came  over,  and 
one  we  saw  some  way  off  detected  by  searchlights, 
which  all  focussed  on  him,  and  shrapnel  bursting  all 
round — a  wonderful  sight.    He  got  away,  however ! 

This  morning  my  Company  Commander  returned, 
and  I  like  him  very  much.  His  name  is  Gibbs,  and  he 
is  very  human  and  affectionate  (not  the  typical  soldier 
type),  and  I  am  told  he  has  simply  made  the  Prince  of 
Wales's  Company,  which  is  now  the  best. 

I  am  temporarily  Battalion  Bombing  Officer,  till 
Gwynne  Jones  comes  back,  and  this  afternoon  I  took 
a  party  of  men  over  to  a  place  two  miles  away  to  do 
bombing  tests.  I  left  them  with  the  Bombing  Officer 
and  returned  in  two  hours ;  they  were  kept  for  another 
hour  after  that  before  they  finished,  and  then  I  brought 
them  back  and  arranged  tea  for  them,  etc. 

I  have  been  given  a  platoon  (No.  4  of  the  Prince  of 
Wales's  Company),  which  is  to  be  mine  permanently. 
They  are  a  good  lot  of  men,  but  one  has  to  be  strict 
with  them,  though  all  the  time  I  feel  such  an  affection 
for  them. 

This  morning  we  did  bayonet  fighting,  musketry 
and  gas  drill.  We  parade  at  10  a.m.  every  morning, 
which  is  a  splendid  hour! 

A  flight  of  five  herons  has  just  flown  over  the  camp. 


ON  ACTIVE  SERVICE  239 


There  was  much  amusement,  and  cries  of  "Lights  out !" 
They  look  exactly  like  aeroplanes ! 

Well,  dear  Mother,  you  know  I  think  of  you  con- 
stantly. This  is  a  most  beautiful  spot,  and  I  am  with 
people  I  like,  so  I  am  as  happy  as  I  could  expect  to  be 
so  far  from  you  all.    God  bless  you. — Your  loving 

Christopher. 

Dearest  Mother, — ^Your  photographs  just  ar- 
rived. They  are  quite  glorious  and  quite  perfect.  They 
are  really  you^  and  it  is  a  joy  to  have  them.  Nothing 
could  have  given  me  greater  pleasure,  and  I  like  the 
case  and  everything  so  much.  .  .  .  God  bless  you. 
You  are  continually  in  my  thoughts. — Ever  your  lov- 
ing 

Cruff. 

I  shall  have  your  photographs  with  me  always. 

THE  SALIENT^ 

The  Ypres  Salient^  no  longer  exists.  The  battles  of 
the  summer  campaign  of  1917  have  extended  the  Brit- 
ish line  forward  to  the  Passchendaele  ridges  and  have 
widened  out  of  recognition  the  narrow  loop  of  defences 
that  swung  round  to  the  north  and  south  of  Ypres. 
But  the  memory  of  the  Ypres  Salient  will  never  fade 
from  the  minds  of  those  who  knew  it  in  being. 

'  This  description  of  the  neighbourhood  of  Ypres  is  here  repro- 
duced by  the  permission  of  the  writer,  Mr.  Fred  Ambrose,  and  of  the 
owners  of  the  W elsh  Outlook  in  which  it  first  appeared. 

*A  salient  in  a  system  of  defences  is  a  loop  in  a  line  of  trenches 
and  redoubts  thrust  forward  for  a  considerable  distance  from  the 
main  trend  of  the  defences. 


240  CHRISTOPHER 

The  early  battles  against  the  westward  advancing 
Germans  barred  their  progress  to  the  sea.  The  thin 
khaki  line  of  British  regulars  and  territorials  held  the 
beautiful  old  Belgian  town  against  the  most  desperate 
attacks  of  the  flower  of  the  German  Army,  and  in  the 
varying  fortunes  of  that  period  was  the  Salient  formed 
— a  settled  integral  part  of  the  British  line.  The  hold- 
ing of  the  Salient  was  rather  a  matter  of  British  hon- 
our and  pride  than  of  military  importance.  While  it 
was  held  there  was  still  a  Belgium;  still  was  Belgium 
in  part  free.  The  cost  of  its  holding  will  never  be 
told — this  sector  with  a  sinister  reputation  which 
claimed  a  constant  heavy  toll  of  British  men.  When 
on  the  Laventie  stretch  farther  south  or  in  the  Festu- 
bert  "islands"  the  first  Kitchener's  men  groused  about 
the  heavy  German  gunfire,  the  old  "sweats"  would 
smile  grimly,  saying,  "Wait  till  yer  gets  to  Wypers, 
chum,  ye' 11  have  something  to  grouse  about  then.  They 
shoot  yer  in  the  back  as  yer  walks  towards  the  line 
there." 

And  the  new  divisions  came  to  regard  the  Salient  as 
a  Hell  amongst  Hells. 

If  you  have  ever  visited  the  Fen  country  you  will 
be  able  to  picture  the  interior  of  the  Salient.  Low- 
lying,  marshy,  a  sea  of  mud  in  winter,  a  few  rare  and 
scattered  undulations  which  are  a  little  less  wet  and 
muddy,  frequent  copses  of  stunted  oaks,  and  fields  of 
hop-poles — gaunt  and  bare  in  winter,  but  in  summer 
clothed  with  wondrous  green  foliage;  these  are  the 


ON  ACTIVE  SERVICE  241 

characteristic  features  of  that  spit  of  land  which  was 
the  foremost  bastion  of  the  British  defences. 

Round  Ypres  the  line  swept  like  the  edge  of  an 
open  fan.  Where  its  radiating  ribs  met  stands  Pope- 
ringhe,  a  little  town  with  cobbled  streets  and  houses  of 
quaint  Flemish  design  with  truncated  gables  and  red- 
tiled  roofs.  Eastwards  through  Poperinghe  passes  the 
main  road  from  Calais  to  Ypres.  Half-way  between 
Poperinghe  and  Ypres  it  runs  through  the  village  of 
Vlamertinghe.  Elverdinghe  and  Woeston  on  the  north, 
and  Kimmel  and  St.  Eloi  on  the  south,  flank  the 
Salient. 

Surrounding  the  low  land  held  by  the  British,  rose 
arrogantly  the  Pilkem  ridge  on  the  north,  and  the 
Messines  ridge  to  the  south — ridges  upon  which  for 
nearly  three  years  the  German  positions  were  estab- 
lished. They  looked  down  upon  us  as  into  a  cup- 
shaped  hollow :  they  mocked  us :  they  gave  us  the  feel- 
ing that  our  every  movement  was  being  watched  and 
all  that  was  done  was  done  by  the  tacit  permission  of 
the  Germans.  That  hollow  one  entered  as  one  would 
enter  the  Valley  of  the  Shadow,  conscious  of  malevo- 
lent eyes,  dreading  every  moment  evil  from  an  invis- 
ible, ever-vigilant  foe.  Within  the  Salient  to  the  south 
rose  one  low  ridge,  relieving  the  flat  monotony,  and 
when  the  air  was  clear  on  this  could  be  discerned  the 
old  monastery  of  Mont  des  Cato,  and  along  the  edge 
of  this  ridge  the  canvas  sails  of  the  Flemish  windmills 
revolved  slowly  in  the  breeze,  and  peacefully  ground 
the  com  into  meal.    In  the  fields  toiled  the  peasants, 


242  CHRISTOPHER 

on  the  ridge  the  windmills  turned  lazily — and  from 
the  copse  near  by  came  the  full-throated  roar  of  a 
big  gun  battery.  A  strange  mingling  of  Peace  and 
War! 

Often  have  I  lain  awake  under  the  brown  blankets 
in  my  billet  in  the  Salient,  seeing  the  yellow  glare 
of  the  Very  lights,  and  listening  to  the  monotonous  rat- 
tle of  the  ration  limbers  returning  empty  from  the  line 
over  the  cobbled  {pave)  roads.  The  car  rattling  over 
the  stony  street — Byron's  line  revealed  then  its  full 
meaning  to  me.  At  night  the  guns  concentrated  in  the 
hollow  roared  their  thunder,  and  lit  up  the  darkness 
with  their  lightning  flashes.  It  seemed  as  though  a 
thousand  thunder-storms  were  concentrating  their  fury 
upon  the  Salient.  And  the  ruined  city — guiltless, 
martyred,  immortal  Ypres — has  been  exposed  for 
three  years  to  the  fury  of  the  storm  of  steel.  At  times 
an  uncanny  silence  brooded  over  its  pitiful  streets  of 
houses,  now  masses  of  formless  debris.  Now  and  then 
a  gun  spoke  hollowly  amidst  its  ruins  making  the  si- 
lence more  intense.  Then  would  come  the  storm  peri- 
ods with  their  hissings  of  angry  projectiles,  the  roar 
of  concealed  batteries,  and  the  heart-clutching  detona- 
tions of  the  shells  that  daily,  and  not  without  success, 
sought  their  mark.  Then  like  an  April  shower  the 
storm  would  pass,  ending  in  a  few  desultory  rounds 
from  the  guns,  answered  by  stray  shells  whining  like 
souls  lost  in  the  brooding  silence. 

Coming  from  the  "Ramparts"  near  the  Menin  gate 
we  traversed  the  ruined  streets  as  far  as  the  Square. 


ON  ACTIVE  SERVICE  243 

As  we  walked  the  sun  shone  serenely,  pitilessly  upon 
that  naked  heap  of  ruins.  Through  the  Square 
flanked  by  the  shattered  Cloth  Hall  rode  a  cyclist- 
soldier,  whistling  cheerfully  for  he  had  nearly  attained 
his  journey's  end.  Another  whistle — louder  and  omi- 
nous— stifled  it  and  then  a  crash  as  a  huge  shell  burst 
a  little  to  one  side  of  him  sending  up  a  soot-black  acrid 
cloud  of  smoke.  The  cyclist  fell  headlong  from  his 
cycle  and  lay  upon  his  back  on  the  cobbled  stones  in 
the  sun,  his  knees  drawn  up  nearly  touching  his  chin 
and  his  legs  kicking  feebly.  A  piece  of  the  shell  had 
cut  across  his  body  and  had  almost  disembowelled  him. 
He  kicked  a  little  more,  frothed  at  the  lips — a  bloody 
froth — and,  crouched  up  in  that  horrible  attitude,  lay 
stiff  and  still.  And  the  sun  shone  on,  warming  the 
fave  stones  with  its  rays.  Everything  was  just  the 
same  except  that  lad  who,  but  a  few  moments  before, 
was  whistling  cheerfully,  and  now  lay  dead.  The  sun 
shone  on  serenely  seeming  to  smile  through  death. 
That  lad  was  just  one  of  the  daily  toll  of  men  who  died 
that  we  might  still  say,  "We  hold  Ypres." 

Along  the  banks  of  the  little  Yperlee  which  flows 
northwards  from  Ypres  for  some  distance  parallel  to 
the  Yser  were  the  dug-outs — now  little  needed — of  the 
British  troops  who  had  sapped  into  the  banks,  and  con- 
structed innumerable  sand-bagged  shelters  for  them- 
selves. Endless  tracks  of  duck-boards  stretched  along 
its  banks  and  that  of  the  Yser,  and  here  in  a  pre-his- 
toric  fashion  lived  for  nearly  three  years  the  troops 
who  held  the  northern  portion  of  the  Salient.     This 


244  CHRISTOPHER 

dug-out  town  was  self-contained:  it  had  its  bath,  its 
hospital,  its  kitchens,  its  stores,  its  canteens,  its  rail- 
ways, and  its  cemetery,  in  which  an  ever-increasing 
number  of  wooden  crosses  grew  out  of  the  soil,  and  in 
which  there  were  always  a  number  of  ready-delved 
graves  for  the  occupants  that  never  failed  them.  And 
within  a  stone's  throw  there  was  gay  laughter  and  song, 
jokes  and  harmless  horse-play,  amongst  those  for  whom 
those  graves  yawned  insatiate. 

Elverdinghe — the  fortress  village  surrounded  by 
batteries  which  spoke  often  and  seldom  were  wanting 
of  their  reply  I  The  church  is  a  broken  ruin,  the  church- 
yard a  chaotic  mass  of  broken  stone,  plaster,  glass  and 
the  bones  of  men  long  since  dead.  From  the  cellars, 
roofed  with  sandbags,  peeped  the  bronzed  faces  of  the 
garrison.  They  greet  passers-by  with  a  cheerful  hail. 
"Cheero  chum !  Any  news !  When  is  this  bloody  war 
going  to  end*?" 

At  night  the  Very  Lights  rose  and  fell  around  one 
in  a  wide  curve.  From  the  apex  of  the  Salient  near 
Hooge  it  seemed  as  though  they  surrounded  one  and 
this  intensified  the  feeling  of  helplessness  and  impo- 
tence which  possessed  one  during  the  day.  These  arcs 
of  light  rose  and  fell  all  through  the  night,  while,  at 
intervals,  various  coloured  lights  signalled  to  the  artil- 
lery behind.  It  was  a  beautiful  spectacle,  but  life  in 
the  Salient  does  not  conduce  to  artistic  appreciation. 

When  the  moon  was  full,  and  in  the  dull  grey  dawn, 
enemy  planes  came  over  and  dropped  their  burden  of 
deadly  bombs  on  the  canvas  camp  and  hutments  built 


ON  ACTIVE  SERVICE  245 

by  the  troops  for  their  shelter  in  the  cold  wet  weather. 
When  the  wind  was  "dangerous" — no  rare  occurrence 
in  the  Salient — the  deep  note  of  the  Strombos  Horn 
often  roused  us  from  our  sleep.  This  heralded  an 
enemy  gas  attack  and  the  Salient  was  instantly  a  Pan- 
demonium. Shell-case  gongs  were  beaten,  ringing 
lengths  of  steel  rail  hammered  with  metal  strikers  by 
lusty  sentries,  bugles  were  blown,  and  horns  blared, 
and  a  little  later  the  artillery  would  partially  drown 
the  inferno  of  noise  in  an  attempt  to  smother  the  enemy 
sector  from  which  the  gas  came.  From  the  dug-outs, 
tents,  and  huts  flowed  a  bustling,  cursing  stream  of  men 
obeying  the  call  to  "Stand  to"  with  their  box-respira- 
tors worn  on  the  chest  in  the  "Alert"  position. 

The  soldier  "on  pass"  into  Poperinghe  was  rarely 
allowed  to  feel,  even  for  an  evening,  that  he  could 
shake  off  the  hateful  dread  of  the  Salient.  After  a 
long  period  in  the  line  he  would  walk  the  cobbled 
streets  and  would  visit  the  concert  party  and  the  pic- 
tures at  the  Divisional  Cinema  near  the  station.  Rare- 
ly was  the  evening's  enjoyment  unbroken,  for  from 
the  north-east  would  come  the  unmistakable  hollow 
crack  of  a  German  long-range  high  velocity  gun,  and 
the  scream  of  the  8  in.  shell  that  burst  with  an  ap- 
palling crash  in  the  cobbled  square.  Four  minutes 
later,  and  then  came  another — this  time  perhaps  peri- 
lously near  the  crowded  cinema  hall  and  the  soldier- 
manager  would  deem  it  prudent  to  dismiss  the  audience 
— an  audience  that  trudged  despondently  cursing  back 
to  the  camps,  while  panic-stricken  civilians  and  women 


246  CHRISTOPHER 

bearing  children  in  their  arms,  hurried  past  them  out 
of  the  town  into  the  open  country  and  safety. 

Of  such  was  the  Salient.  During  the  day  it  pulsated 
with  toil,  at  the  A.S.C.  dumps,  and  at  the  R.E.  yards 
refugees  prepared  war  material  for  the  line  which  pro- 
hibited the  invader  from  the  last  corner  of  their  be- 
loved Belgium;  at  the  numerous  ammunition  dumps 
huge  and  innumerable  shells  were  loaded  into  lorries 
bound  for  the  gun  positions.  New  railways  were  be- 
ing laid  down,  and  new  roads  constructed  for  the  grand 
advance  to  come.  Innumerable  hutments  and  camps 
sprang  up  amid  the  copses  and  woods  of  the  Salient. 
Fritz,  his  path  marked  by  a  row  of  white  puff-balls 
in  the  sky,  would  come  to  view  it  all,  and  busy  work- 
ers craned  their  necks  to  see  his  plane  flashing  in  the 
sun,  and  hoped  that  one  of  our  airmen  would  attack 
him.  An  aerial  fight  never  proved  monotonous,  though 
it  was  a  fairly  common  occurrence  in  the  Salient. 

Along  the  roads  the  refugees  built  themselves  rows 
of  little  cabins  from  any  and  every  material — from 
hammered  out  petrol  cans,  packing  cases,  biscuit  tins, 
from  mud  and  wattle.  There  they  lived  making  many 
honest  pennies  by  selling  eggs  and  chips,  doughnuts, 
embroidered  postcards,  aluminium  rings  and  such  like 
articles  to  the  soldiers. 

And  always  shells,  and  gunfire,  and  the  rattle  of  a 
myriad  machine  guns,  and  the  constant  menace  of  the 
poison  gas.  And  often  at  night  the  thunder  of  a 
German  armoured  train  with  its  leviathan  guns  shell- 


ON  ACTIVE  SERVICE  247 

ing  a  village  or  our  big  gun  positions.  And  always  in 
the  distance  the  black  puff-balls  of  smoke  from  German 
shrapnel  bursting  over  Ypres. 

With  all  its  dread  horror  the  Salient  will  ever  be 
hallowed  ground  to  Britain.  Her  many  brave  sons 
who  lie  buried  there  have  made  it  "for  ever  Eng- 
land's." 

Fred  Ambrose. 

To  his  Father. 

August  2'^rd,  19 1?* 
Dearest  Deedooge, — ^All  well  here — there  is  not 
much  news  to  tell  you,  but  I  long  to  hear  from  you.  I 
was  Picquet  Officer  yesterday,  and  had  various  duties 
to  perform.  I  have  just  been  censoring  the  men's 
letters. 

We  had  German  aeroplanes  over  here  yesterday. 
They  came  right  over  the  camp  last  night,  and  I  could 
hear  the  engines  distinctly,  but  they  did  not  drop  bombs 
here.  They  dropped  them  about  a  mile  off  on  casualty 
clearing  stations,  and  bombed  some  of  their  own 
wounded.  I  have  got  everything  that  I  want  out  here 
— ^but  would  you  ask  Mummy  to  send  me  a  "Platoon 
Roll  Book,"  to  keep  a  list  of  the  men  in  my  platoon. 
.  .  .  We  had  a  terrific  thunderstorm  last  night,  and 
it  has  been  raining  this  morning.  I  expect  to  move, 
possibly  (  I)  next  week,  but  one  never  knows. 

I  spent  this  morning  in  going  over  the  bombs  be- 
longing to  the  Battalion,  sorting  and  cleaning  them  up 
generally.  I  am  glad  to  have  that  photograph  of  Ca- 
doxton — it  gives  me  great  pleasure. 


248  CHRISTOPHER 

God  bless  you.  Write  soon,  as  the  men  always  say 
in  their  letters. — Ever  your  loving 

Christopher. 

August  2<\th. 

No  news  to-day,  but  just  a  line  to  say  all  well.  We 
are  still  in  the  same  place,  and  I  do  not  yet  know  when 
we  shall  move.  We  are  having  a  parade  to-morrow 
of  the  whole  Guards'  Division!  A  French  General  is 
going  to  present  decorations  and  medals.  Some  of  our 
men  are  getting  medals,  and  the  General  will  probably 
embrace  them!  I  played  cricket  yesterday.  Ballard 
got  a  kick  on  the  leg  at  football,  and  is  limping  a  bit, 
but  will  be  all  right  in  a  day  or  two.  I  have  not  re- 
ceived any  cigarettes  yet  from  the  Stores.  I  hope  you 
have  got  some  of  my  letters  by  now. 

God  bless  you,  dear  Mother. 

Sunday,  August  26th. 

Dearest  Mother, — ^AU  well.  The  fountain  pen 
has  arrived,  and  I  am  very  glad  to  have  it — many 
thanks  for  it,  and  also  the  scissors.  I  do  admire  the 
magnificent  way  you  do  up  the  parcels  in  that  sort  of 
stuff  we  used  to  mount  brass  rubbings  on!^  All  your 
parcels  have  arrived  safe,  and  I  hope  you  got  my  wire 

about  three  days  ago.    We  go  to-morrow  to ^  for 

some  days,  then  the  front.  When  we  go  up  we  shall 
be  in  the  line  for  four  days,  and  then  come  out — when- 
ever we  do  go.  .  .  . 

I  find  my  air-bed  very  useful  out  here,  as  we  sleep 

^  The  parcels   were   sewn   up   in   unbleached   calico. 
*A  farm  in  the  neighbourhood  of  Elverdinghe. 


ON  ACTIVE  SERVICE  249 

on  stretchers,  and  the  air-bed  makes  the  whole  differ- 
ence in  comfort.  I  have  received  a  cover  for  my  steel 
helmet.  My  periscope  has  come.  The  Entrenching 
Battalion  consists  of  men  from  various  regiments  in 
the  Guards  Division,  and  Devereux  is  there  now,  but 
none  of  us  went — I  do  not  know  why.  Dickens  is  out 
here. 

My  Padre's  real  name  is  not  Mogg  but  Oldham,  and 
he  is  always  called  "Moo"  as  a  nickname.  No  one 
knows  why,  but  I  suggest  it  is  short  for  "Man  of  God"  ! 
God  bless  you,  dear  mother;  I  have  you  continually 
before  my  eyes,  and  travel  to  Cadoxton  in  spirit  very 
often. 

I  went  for  a  ride  this  afternoon  on  the  Quarter- 
master's horse,  and  enjoyed  it. 

Yesterday  we  had  a  long  day.  Left  at  1 1 130, 
marched  four  miles  to  a  flying  ground.  At  three  we 
were  inspected  by  General  Anthoine,  a  French  General, 
in  magnificent  blue  uniform.  We  did  not  get  back  till 
six.  He  did  not  embrace  anyone :  I  was  disappointed ! 
He  had  a  magnificent  staff  in  bright  blue,  and  our 
Corps  Commander  was  there. 

God  bless  you,  dear  Mother. 

P.S. — (Written  outside  the  envelope.) — Un  mon- 
sieur qui  s'appelle  Pte.  Ball  dans  le  regiment  ira  vous 
voir.  II  vient  de  Cadoxton,  et  retourne  la  dans  quel- 
ques  jours  en  vacances. 

August  l']th^  1917- 
Dearest  Mother, — All  well  here.    We  moved  this 
morning  from  our  last  place,  and  came  by  train  here,  a 
journey  of  about  ten  miles.    Our  kit  we  brought  with 


250  CHRISTOPHER 

us,  and  it  went  at  eight  this  morning.  We  got  here 
about  one  o'clock  this  afternoon.  It  has  rained  inces- 
santly all  day,  but  I  did  not  get  wet.  I  have  got  my 
black  top  boots  on ! 

We  all  travelled  in  cattle  trucks,  all  the  officers 
in  one  truck,  and  the  men  crowded  into  others. 
It  was  very  interesting,  as  we  gradually  got  into  the 
area  that  had  once  been  shelled — farmhouses  half 
demolished  and  churches  with  part  of  the  tower 
blown  off,  also  many  trees  all  looking  like  the  "blasted 
Pine,"  ^  stripped  of  branches,  and  in  some  cases  mere 
stumps  left. 

We  marched  here  from  the  place  at  which  we  de- 
trained along  a  road  lined  with  such  trees  and  houses 
— about  two  miles'  march — and  we  saw  German  shells 
occasionally  bursting  not  more  than  a  mile  or  so  away. 
We  are  not  up  in  the  front  line  nor  likely  to  be  shelled 
here,  but  it  is  a  moderately  warm  place.  We  are  sur- 
rounded by  our  own  guns,  fairly  close  by,  and  there 
is  a  tremendous  bombardment  going  on  at  present — 
like  continuous  thunder.    It  is  all  very  wonderful! 

When  we  got  here  the  men  pitched  their  bivouacs, 
and  we  had  some  lunch.  I  am  sharing  a  tent  with 
the  Padre  and  de  Satge  the  interpreter,  both  very  nice 
and  intellectual  people. 

My  kit  is  all  here,  but  it  will  not  go  further  up  with 

*A  huge  tree  which  had  been  struck  by  lightning  and  stands  high 
on  the  mountain  side  above  Cadoxton.  The  family  party  often  climbed 
up  to  It  for  the  sake  of  the  glorious  view  spread  out  beneath,  and 
Christopher  had  named  it  from  a  line  in  one  of  the  songs  from  "The 
Princess,"  which  was  a  special  favourite  of  his: 

'*.  .  .  cease  to  move  so  near  the  Heavens,  and  cease 
To  glide  a  sunbeam  by  the  blasted  Pine." 


ON  ACTIVE  SERVICE  251 

me.  I  am  in  good  spirits  and  really  enjoying  the 
great  adventure.  We  wear  our  box  respirators  slung 
over  our  shoulders,  to  be  ready  for  gas,  but  we  are 
practically  safe  from  it  here,  I  think. 

I  think  this  is  all  my  news.  Private  Ball,  who  is 
a  Cadoxton  man,  introduced  himself  to  me  yesterday, 
and  I  had  a  long  talk  with  him.  He  is  going  on  leave 
to  Cadoxton  soon,  and  I  told  him  to  be  sure  to  call  on 
you,  so  you  may  expect  to  see  him.^ 

As  to  the  estimate  that  the  men  formed  of  Christo- 
pher the  following  words  are  quoted  from  a  contem- 
porary note  made  by  his  mother  immediately  after  her 
interview  with  Private  Ball : 

"The  men  would  have  done  anything  for  him,  he 
made  himself  just  one  of  them.  He  never  made  any 
man  feel  that  he  thought  himself  above  him.  He  was 
a  man  and  a  soldier!  He  got  more  out  of  his  men 
than  others  because  they  did  it  for  him  with  willing 
hearts.  There  was  no  grousing  in  his  platoon.  He  had 
a  Welsh  way  with  him,  he  was  always  so  happy  and 
smiling.  They  knew  what  he  was,  the  men — he  was 
one  of  them.  Everyone  thought  the  world  of  him.  I 
have  heard  remarks  passed  after  his  death  among  the 
men  about  what  he  was — I  know  I  would  have  given 
my  life  for  him  willingly." 

*The  meeting  with  Private  Ball  took  place  in  due  course  when 
he  came  home  on  leave  on  September  15th.  He  had  been  in  the 
trenches  on  the  night  of  September  2nd  and  3rd,  and  was  able  to 
give  a  number  of  small  details  as  to  the  experiences  of  the  ist  Bat- 
talion of  the  Welsh  Guards  from  the  day  Christopher  joined  it 


252  CHRISTOPHER 

August  2^th^  1917- 

Dearest  Mother. — Many  thanks  for  your  delicious 
long  letter.  There  is  a  tremendously  strong  gale  blow- 
ing; our  tent  was  nearly  blown  away  during  the  night  I 
It  is  finer  to-day,  with  squalls  of  rain.  I  have  got  my 
black  top  boots  on,  which  keep  out  the  rain.  I  wrote 
daily  to  you  from  the  last  place,  so  you  ought  to  get 
my  letters  regularly.  My  Daily  News  is  only  a  day 
late,  always! 

That  is  a  delicious  poem  you  sent  me,  which  I  will 
keep  in  my  pocket-book.^  I  have  also  got  in  my  pocket 
the  little  lavender  bag  you  sent  me  with  the  fountain 
pen. 

Re  the  various  questions  in  your  letter.  I  sleep  on 
a  stretcher  raised  on  wood  off  the  ground,  with  my 
air-bed,  sleeping  bag,  and  blanket.  Here  I  have  the 
whole  valise  unrolled  on  a  stretcher  and  sleep  on  it. 

My  green  kit  bag  is  very  useful,  and  1  have  got 
my  web  equipment,  etc.,  and  things  which  are  too 
hard  or  too  fragile  to  sleep  on  in  it.  We  eat  off  tin 
plates  and  drink  out  of  mugs,  though  there  are  a  few 
china  plates  and  glasses  which  we  may  occasionally 
get.  At  the  last  camp  we  had  two  farmhouses  for  hav- 
ing our  meals  in.  The  best  one  was  used  by  Head- 
quarters— i.e.  CO.,  Adjutant,  Second  in  Command, 
etc. — with  the  officers  of  the  Prince  of  Wales's  Com- 

*A  poem  by  Christina  Rossetti  which  ends  with  the  following 
verse : 

"Heaven  overarches  you  and  me, 

And  all  earth's  gardens  and  her  graves. 
Look  up  with  me,  until  we  see 
The   day  break   and   the   shadows   flee. 
What  though  to-night  wrecks  you   and  me, 
If  so  to-morrow  saves?" 


ON  ACTIVE  SERVICE  253 

pany  and  No.  2.  In  the  other  farm  Nos.  3  and  4  Com- 
panies messed.  Here  we  all  mess  together  in  a  small 
corrugated  shed.  The  men  sleep  in  bivouacs,  and  we 
have  tents,  three  in  a  tent.  Bivouacs  are  sheets  pegged 
down  over  frames  (three  parts  and  crosspiece). 

We  have  breakfast — eggs  and  bacon,  tea  (no  coffee, 
alas!),  bread  and  butter  and  marmalade — any  time 
from  seven  to  nine !  I  had  breakfast  in  bed  this  morn- 
ing, and  got  up  at  9.30,  as  we  had  to  have  our  meals 
in  our  tents  until  the  mess  (a  shed  of  corrugated  iron) 
was  put  up.  All  of  us  have  to  salute  the  Commanding 
Officer  the  first  time  we  see  him  in  the  day,  and  if  he 
is  at  breakfast  we  walk  in  and  salute !  I  like  him  and 
get  on  with  him.  He  is  Scotch.  Then  we  lunch  at 
one,  when  we  have  meat,  vegetables,  sweet  and  cheese. 
Tea  from  four  to  five,  and  dinner  at  eight — ^soup,  meat, 
sweet  and  cheese,  with  white  wine  and  soda  to  drink. 
We  used  to  have  coffee,  too,  after  lunch  and  dinner 
at  our  last  camp. 

Our  present  camp  was  a  field  quite  full  of  thistles 
when  we  first  came.  There  are  crops  everywhere — yel- 
low com,  wheat,  and  some  maize.  The  roads  are  all 
pave^  except  the  very  small  ones,  and  not  comfortable 
for  marching  on.  The  guns  go  on  intermittently  here, 
and  there  is  a  12-inch  one  not  far  off  which  makes  a 
tremendous  bang,  but  they  are  not  firing  so  fiercely 
to-day  as  yesterday.  .  .  . 

I  am  glad  you  got  my  telegram,  and  I  will  wire 
whenever  I  come  out  of  the  line.  I  have  not  heard 
anything  more  about  Paris  leave,  but  when  I  know  for 
certain  I  will  wire. 


254  CHRISTOPHER 

I  like  that  extract  from  "Letters  of  a  Soldier"  * 
which  you  send  me.  You  know  all  I  feel,  dear  Mother, 
and  I  know  you  will  be  with  me  in  all  dangers  and 
weariness  that  I  may  have  to  go  through.  What  hap- 
py days  we  have  had  together — and  how  love  has  in- 
terwoven our  lives!  It  is  a  great  joy  to  look  back  on 
delicious  moments  we  have  had.  I  can  think  of  many 
such,  and  they  will  be  a  memory  for  ever.  This  whole 
business  seems  often  to  me  just  a  dream,  from  which  I 
shall  wake  to  find  myself  in  my  own  bed  at  Cadox- 
ton,  and  I  daresay  it  will  seem  like  that  when  it  is  all 
over. 

How  strange  life  is!  We  are  perplexed,  but  not 
dismayed — "Heaven  over-arches  you  and  me,"  and 
I  have  learnt  to  feel  that  separation  cannot  break  the 
bond  of  love  nor  destroy  the  daily  intercourse  which 
has  been  ours  so  long.  The  miles  by  which  we  are 
divided  do  not  matter,  for  we  are  close  together  in  the 
spirit,  you  and  I.  Each  day  that  passes  I  feel  that 
we  are  conversing  together,  with  our  minds,  for  we 

*  Extract  from  "Letters  of  a  Soldier"  (the  writer  is  a  young  French 
painter) :  "I  should  like  to  define  the  form  of  my  conviction  of  better 
things  in  the  near  future,  resulting  from  this  war.  These  events  pre- 
pare the  way  to  a  new  life:  that  of  the  United  States  of  Europe. 
After  the  conflict  those  who  will  have  completely  and  filially  ful- 
filled their  obligations  to  their  country  will  find  themselves  con- 
fronted by  duties  yet  more  grave — and  the  realisation  of  things  that 
are  now  impossible.  Then  will  be  the  time  for  them  to  throw  their 
efforts  into  the  Future — they  must  use  their  energies  to  wipe  out  the 
trace  of  the  shattering  contact  of  Nations.  The  French  Revolution, 
notwithstanding  its  mistakes,  notwithstanding  some  backsliding  in 
practice,  some  failure  in  construction,  did  none  the  less  establish 
in  man's  soul  this  fine  theory  of  National  Unity.  Well !  the  horrors 
of  this  War  lead  to  the  Unity  of  Europe,  to  the  Unity  of  the  race. 
The  new  State  will  not  be  established  without  blows  and  strife  for 
an  indefinite  time,  but  without  doubt  the  door  is  now  open  towards 
the  new  horizon."     (Date,  November  15th,  1914.) 


ON  ACTIVE  SERVICE  255 

know  that  each  is  thinking  of  the  other.  I  feel  you  so 
near  to  me  that  when  I  open  my  eyes  I  expect  almost 
to  see  you  before  me.  I  have  never  felt  so  strongly 
before  this  nearness  of  you,  dear  Mother,  to  me. 

Well,  the  path  lies  before  me.  I  feel  like  Childe 
Roland,  and  when  I  have  won  the  Dark  Tower  ^ — 
across  all  this  waste  and  desolate  battlefield — I  shall 
return,  please  God,  to  the  "haven  where  I  would  be." 
And  I  hope  this  time  will  soon  come,  when  we  shall 
meet  again  and  rejoice  together. 

Give  my  love  to  all.  I  am  well,  and  in  a  place  not 
unpleasant.  The  sun  is  shining,  and  the  world  looks 
all  so  bright. 

Give  my  love  to  all,  and  especially  to  Deedooge, 
whom  ask  to  interpret  /Sapv  i^^v  olarkov  5'  3/i«s  *  from 
Sophocles. 

God  bless  you  again.  I  look  forward  to  all  the 
happy  days  we  shall  have  together. — Ever  vour  loving 

Cruff. 


August  2gthi  1917- 
My  possessions  are  most  adequate,  and  I  have  got 
everything  I  want.  Other  people's  things  are  very 
insufficient  when  compared  with  mine,  and  de  Satge, 
the  interpreter,  said  to  me  the  other  day,  "What  a 
splendid  kit  you  have  got!  You  must  have  a  very 
loving  mother  I" — which  I  said  was  quite  true. 

Hobbs  will  go  with  me  into  the  front  line,  as  far 

*  Browning's  "Childe  Roland."  See  quotation  at  head  of  this  chap- 
ter, p.  229,  and  p.  80.  But  Browning  quotes  it  from  Shakespeare,  King 
Lear,  III.  iv. 

'Grievous  indeed,  yet  to  be  endured. 


256  CHRISTOPHER 

as  he  knows,  and  my  kit  will  stay  behind  with  the 
transport,  except  just  what  I  take  up  with  me. 

I  have  to-day  wired  to  say  that  I  am  getting  Paris 
leave  September  4th.  This  is  practically  certain,  and 
I  shall  be  able  to  go  unless  any  very  unforeseen  cir- 
cumstance occurs.  People  here  say  it  is  difficult  for 
anyone  except  wives  to  come  over,  but  I  hope  you  and 
Deedooge  will  manage  I  Most  of  the  officers  here 
stay  at  the  Ritz  when  they  go  there.  Paris  leave  has 
no  relation  at  all  to  English  leave,  which  you  get 
ten  days  every  three  months,  and  Paris  leave  cannot 
affect  that.  I  have  got  all  the  parcels  sent,  registered 
and  otherwise.  .  .  . 

I  remember  the  house  you  are  taking  at  Langland 
Bay,  and  I  like  your  sketch  of  it!  You  will  enjoy  the 
change  and  sea  air.  You  are  constantly  in  my  thoughts, 
dear  Mother.  Farewell  for  the  present. — Ever  your 
loving 

Cruff. 

Extracts  from  letters  of  the  same  date  to  two  other 
members  of  the  family : 

"We  are  surrounded  by  big  guns,  some  firing  over 
our  heads,  and  the  first  day  we  arrived  there  was  a 
tremendous  bombardment  going  on.  'Fritz  was  getting 
it  I'  as  the  men  said.  We  have  had  German  shells 
right  over  the  camp,  aimed,  no  doubt,  at  guns  behind 
us,  and  last  night  I  heard  them  singing  through  the 
air.  The  Adjutant  found  a  piece  of  shrapnel  in  the 
camp  this  morning  which  may  have  been  blown  from 
300  yards  off  I    I  am  parading  at  5.30  a.m.  to-morrow 


ON  ACTIVE  SERVICE  257 

to  take  a  party  of  ninety-eight  men  and  march  to  a 
certain  town  about  nine  miles  off.  I  am  the  only 
officer  in  charge,  and  I  leave  the  men  at  this  town  and 
then  come  back.  I  expect  I  shall  get  a  lift  in  a  motor 
lorry  on  the  way  back.  I  expect  to  go  to  the  front 
line  the  day  after  to-morrow  and  be  in  for  four  days 
— but  I  do  not  know  at  all  for  certain.  .  .  .  We 
have  got  a  tame  jackdaw  as  a  mascot,  and  he  was 
brought  up  from  our  last  camp  in  a  sandbag.  He  is 
very  tame,  and  you  can  pick  him  up. 

''You  would  laugh  if  you  could  see  me  now,  dressed 
in  riding  breeches  and  black  top  boots,  and  sitting  in 
my  tent  while  the  wind  and  rain  are  raging  outside! 
Well,  I  can  tell  you  that  I  am  in  Flanders,  and  that 
is  about  all.  It  is  all  very  interesting  out  here,  which 
is  a  great  thing.  The  batteries  of  guns  round  here  are 
mostly  9.2,  and  I  went  and  looked  at  them  yesterday. 
There  is  a  tall  tree  near  one  of  them,  with  a  ladder  go- 
ing up  to  the  top,  so  I  climbed  up  and  had  a  look 
round.  I  saw  very  desolate  country  in  front.  Lots  of 
trees  all  stripped  of  leaves  and  branches  and  even  bark. 
This  is  a  great  adventure,  and  I  am  enjoying  it." 

August  2PiK  iQi?* 
Dearest  Mother, — ^All  well.    I  got  your  letter  of 
27th  to-day.  .  .  . 

I  expect  to  go  into  the  line  to-morrow  night.^  I 
will  tell  you  my  day  to-day:  I  rose  at  4.30  a.m., 
breakfasted  at  five,  paraded  at  5.30,  and  marched  my 
ninety-eight  men  to  a  certain  town.^  It  is  a  quaint  old 
place;  the  eastern  half  has  been  entirely  demolished 

*  Near  Langemarck.  '  Poperinghe. 


258  CHRISTOPHER 

by  shelling,  but  all  the  houses  stand  on  the  west  side. 
I  put  my  men  into  the  train  (they  are  returning  to  the 
Entrenching  Battalion,  as  we  are  up  to  full  strength). 
Then  I  went  and  had  another  breakfast  and  came  back 
in  a  lorry.  On  returning  I  found  the  camp  deserted  I 
I  went  to  the  Orderly  Room,  and  the  clerk  said  the 
Battalion  had  taken  refuge  about  lOO  yards  off.  I 
noticed  shells  coming  right  over  the  camp  and  bursting 
a  quarter  of  a  mile  west  of  us,  so  I  put  on  my  steel 
helmet,  and  joined  the  other  officers.  They  told  me 
we  had  had  several  shells  of  shrapnel  bursting  right 
over  the  camp.  None  of  our  men  were  touched,  but 
the  Grenadiers,  who  are  encamped  in  the  same  field  as 
ourselves,  had  one  man  killed  and  four  injured  by 
shrapnel.  However,  there  was  no  more  of  it  after  I 
returned.  I  will  write  again  to-morrow  before  we  go 
off.  I  hope  you  will  come  to  Paris,  but  my  leave 
may  be  put  off  owing  to  our  going  up  into  the  line; 
as  it  is  we  shall  be  out  at  the  time  of  my  leave,  and 
you  may  count  on  my  coming,  but  should  anything 
occur  I  will  wire.  .  .  .  Love  to  Deedooge.  God 
bless  you.    All  well. — Your  loving 

Cruff. 

August  31J-/,  1917.* 
Dearest  Mother, — ^We  go  into  the  trenches  to- 
night. I  am  taking  Hobbs  with  me.  Gibbs  stays  at 
Company  Headquarters,  coming  round  occasionally, 
and  Bonsor  and  I  take  turns,  one  being  in  the  line,  and 
one  at  Company  Headquarters.  We  take  alternate 
days.     Being  in  the  line  means  probably  a  concrete 

*  Received  Tuesday,   September  4th,  the  day  after  his  death. 


ON  ACTIVE  SERVICE  259 

blockhouse.  We  shall  be  in  four  days.  We  first  cross 
a  river — rolling  rapidly  ^ — then  are  met  by  guides  who 
conduct  us  to  our  destination,  where  we  relieve  other 
troops.  As  soon  as  we  get  out  of  the  line  I  will  if 
possible  wire  to  you.  I  expect  I  shall  not  come  to 
Paris  till  the  5th  of  September,  unless  I  leave  a  day 
earlier.    I  do  not  know. 

My  kit  I  am  taking  up  is  going  in  two  sandbags  by 
mules  to  Company  Headquarters.  We  are  going  to  a 
very  quiet  part  of  the  line,  I  hear,  which  is  a  good 
thing.  I  am  taking  my  writing  pad  with  me,  so  I  shall 
have  plenty  of  time  to  write  to  you  at  length.  Both 
you  and  Deedooge  will  be  much  in  my  thoughts.  I 
do  not  mind  going  up  myself,  as  I  feel  very  philosophi- 
cal about  danger,  and  I  have  the  conviction  that  I 
shall  return  to  you  safe.  God  bless  and  keep  you.  Let 
not  your  heart  be  troubled.  I  will  write  frequently. 
Give  Deedooge  my  love.  I  have  not  much  time  to 
write  now  as  we  are  busy  getting  off. — Your  loving 

Cruff. 

The  two  following  letters  were  found  upon  his  body 
after  his  death  in  action  on  September  3rd. 

September  \st,  19 1 7- 
Dearest  Mother, — I  am  now  sitting  in  a  dugout 
in  the  front  line;  it  is  a  concrete  blockhouse  and  very 
strong.  We  left  our  last  camp  yesterday  evening,  then 
marched  about  two  miles  on  the  road,  then  turned  off 
on  to  trenchboards  which  led  for  miles  past  shell  holes 
— nothing  but  mud  to  be  seen  and  trees  stripped  of 

*The    Iser,     See   Campbell's   "Hohenlinden." 


260  CHRISTOPHER 

branches.  At  length  we  turned  off  again  and  found 
our  own  way  through  the  mud.  (We  had  a  guide  to 
show  us  the  way.)  They  sent  some  shells  over,  but 
none  near  us  during  our  march,  and  the  night  was  dark. 

vVe  all  got  settled  in  eventually.  It  is  an  old  Ger- 
man trench,  and  really  faces  the  wrong  way.  It  mere- 
ly consists  of  the  trench,  which  is  broken  in  several 
places.  Last  night  shells  dropped  close  to  us,  and  I 
got  covered  with  mud  from  them  several  times.  In 
the  night  Gibbs  and  I  went  out  in  front  and  walked 
about — I  cannot  now  tell  you  why — but  we  had  shells 
bursting  round  us  all  the  time.  The  men  are  splendid, 
and  nobody  is  the  least  bit  afraid.  I  was  up  all  night, 
and  got  a  little  sleep  this  morning,  and  a  little  more 
after  tea.  I  have  got  tins  of  food,  and  Hobbs  cooks 
for  me.  To-night  I  go  back  and  spend  twenty-four 
hours  at  Company  Headquarters  while  Bonsor  relieves 
me.^  The  line  is  really  quite  quiet,  though  one  cannot 
move  about  much  by  day  owing  to  German  snipers. 

I  am  a  bit  tired,  but  very  satisfied  with  things  in 
general,  and  the  men  are  cheerful. 

God  bless  you,  dear  mother.  I  will  wire  if  I  can 
when  we  come  out. — Your  loving 

Cruff. 

September  ind^  19 1 7- 
Dearest  Mother, — ^All  well.    I  come  out  to-night, 

and  Bonsor  takes  my  place — so  by  the  time  you  get  this 

you  will  know  I  am  through  all  right. 

I  got  your  wire  last  night,  also  your  three  letters. 

*Thi8  arrangement  was  altered,  and  he  remained  on  duty  in  the 
front  line  throughout  Sunday,  September  2nd. 


ON  ACTIVE  SERVICE  261 

I  am  very  sorry  you  cannot  come  to  Paris/  Isn't  it 
shameful  only  wives  may  go?  I  am  going  with  Webb,^ 
which  will  be  nice  for  me.  I  will  write  when  I  get  there. 

Many  thanks  for  that  little  book  of  poems.*  It  IS 
a  great  joy  having  it  out  here.  There  is  nothing  much 
to  do  all  day  except  sleep  now  and  then.  Well — ^you 
can  think  of  me  in  Paris.  It  will  soon  be  English 
leave,  and  that  will  be  splendid  I 

Webb  is  going  to  stay  at  the  Ritz,  I  think,  where 
he  has  been  before,  so  I  expect  I  might  go  there  with 
him.  He  tried  to  get  his  papa  to  come  over,  but  I 
expect  he  found  it  is  only  wives  who  can  come! 

I  got  hit  in  the  face  by  a  small  piece  of  shrapnel 
this  morning,  but  it  was  a  spent  piece,  and  did  not 
even  cut  me. 

One  becomes  a  great  fatalist  out  here.  God  bless 
you.— Your  loving  ^^^^^^ 

A  telegram  from  the  War  Office,  dated  September 
6th,  1917,  was  received  at  Cadoxton  on  the  evening 
of  that  day: 

"Deeply  regret  to  inform  you  that  Sec-Lieut.  G.  C.  S.  Ten- 
nant,  1st  Welsh  Guards,  was  killed  in  action  September  sec- 
ond.*    The  Army  Council  express  their  sympathy. 

"Secretary,  War  Office." 

*  After  obtaining  a  passport  his  Mother  had  been  refused  permis- 
sion to  proceed  to  Paris  by  the  Military  Permit  Office,  on  the  ground 
that  the  Regulations  provided  that  only  the  wives  of  officers  were 
allowed  over.  This  specimen  of  official  red-tape  (she  considers) 
ought  surely  to  be  done  away  with  in  the  case  of  mothers  of  un- 
married officers. 

*Mr.  Webb  (pp.  178,  277)   was  killed  in  action  on  Dec.  1,  1917. 

*  A  small  paper-covered  anthology,  "The  Hundred  Best  Poems  in 
the  English  Language  (Lyrical)."    Selected  by  Adam  L.  Gowans,  M.A. 

*  This   was   subsequently  corrected   to   September   3rd. 


262  CHRISTOPHER 


(Of  the  Dead.) 

"First  and  chiefly,  I  at  least  see  ground  to  believe  that  their 
state  is  one  of  endless  evolution  in  wisdom  and  in  love.  Their 
loves  of  earth  persist;  and  most  of  all  those  highest  loves 
which  seek  their  outlet  in  adoration  and  worship.  .  .  .  For  in 
that  world  love  is  actually  self-preservation,  the  Communion 
of  Saints  not  only  adorns  but  constitutes  the  Life  Everlasting. 
Nay,  from  the  law  of  telepathy  it  follows  that  that  Com- 
munion is  valid  for  us  here  and  now.  Even  now  the  love  of 
souls  departed  makes  answer  to  our  invocations.  Even  now 
our  loving  memory — love  is  itself  a  prayer — supports  and 
strengthens  those  delivered  spirits  upon  their  upward  way. 
No  wonder;  since  we  are  to  them  but  as  fellow-travellers 
shrouded  in  a  mist;  'neither  death  nor  life,  nor  height,  nor 
depth,  nor  any  other  creature'  can  bar  us  from  the  hearth-fires 
of  the  universe,  or  hide  for  more  than  a  moment  the  inconceiv- 
able oneness  of  souls."  ^ 

"  'EitlSvtos  &pa  davarov  ewi  rbv  avdpwwov  t6  niv  BvriTbv,  wj 
&>iKev,  ahrov  a.%odvQ<TKit.,  t6  8'  adavarov  ao3V  Kal  a8La<f)dopov 
olx^raL  d.Trt6v,  i>TreKX<>}pv^o-v  r^J  Qavkn^J"  * 

A  DDIODDEFODD  A  ORFU  ^ 

*  From  a  Paper  read  before  the  Synthetic  Society  in  March,  1899, 
by  F.  W.  H.  Myers.     See  "Human  Personality,"  chap.  x. 

'Plato,  Phaedo  (io6):  "Then  when  death  comes  to  a  man,  his 
mortal  part  dies,  but  the  immortal  part  goes  away  unharmed  and 
undestroyed,  withdrawing  from  death." 

*  "He  who  has  suflFered  has  conquered."  The  Motto  of  Jestyn  Ap 
Gurgan,  who  ruled  over  Neath  before  the  coming  of  the  Normans. 


CHAPTER  XII 

LETTERS      FROM      BROTHER      OFFICERS,      NON-COMMIS- 
SIONED   OFFICERS    AND    MEN    OF    THE    WELSH 
GUARDS,    AND    FROM    FRIENDS 

"And  SO  of  all  that  form  inheriteth 

The  fall  doth  pass  the  rise  in  worth; 
For  birth  hath  in  itself  the  germ  of  death, 

But  death  hath  in  itself  the  gern\  of  birth. 
It  Is  the  falling  acorn  buds  the  tree, 
The  falling  rain  that  bears  the  greenery. 

The  fern-plants  moulder  when  the  ferns  arise. 
For  there  is  nothing  lives  but  something  dies, 
And  there  is  nothing  dies  but  something  lives. 

Till  skies  be  fugitives, 
Till  Time,  the  hidden  root  of  Change,  updries, 
Are  Birth  and  Death  inseparable  on  earth; 
For  they  are  twain  yet  one,  and  Death  is  Birth." 
Francis  Thompson,  "Ode  to  the  Setting  Sun."  (Cf.  p.  108.) 

From  Captain  Arthur  Gibbs,  commanding  the 
Prince  of  Wales  Company,  1st  Battalion 
Welsh  Guards. 

ij-/  Welsh  Guards,  B.E.F. 

September  ^th. 
Dear  Mrs.  Tennant, — It  is  with  the  greatest  sor- 
row that  I  have  to  write  to  you  about  the  death  of  your 
son.    I  will  tell  you  how  it  happened. 

He  had  been  up  in  the  front  line  for  two  days,  and 

263 


264  CHRISTOPHER 

early  in  the  morning  of  the  3rd,  at  about  four  o'clock, 
while  it  was  still  dark,  he  came  down  to  Company 
Headquarters  with  all  his  kit  packed  up,  as  he  was 
going  out  of  the  line  that  morning  to  go  to  Paris  the 
next  day.  I  saw  him  then,  wished  him  good  luck,  and 
that  was  the  last  I  saw  of  him.  He  had  Hobbs,  his 
servant,  with  him,  and  Lewis,  an  Orderly.  They  had 
only  got  about  200  yards  away,  down  the  duckboard 
track,  when  a  shell  burst  very  close  to  them,  hitting 
your  son  in  the  eye,  and  about  the  head  and  face, 
wounding  Lewis  in  seven  or  eight  places,  and  scratch- 
ing Hobbs's  face.  Hobbs  stayed  with  your  son,  who 
was  unconscious  from  the  first,  and  Lewis,  very  pluck- 
ily,  struggled  back  to  Company  Headquarters  to  fetch 
the  stretcher-bearers.  Lewis  was  hit  in  both  legs,  and 
lost  a  great  deal  of  blood ;  he  delivered  his  message  and 
then  fainted  away.*  Your  son  died  in  less  than  half 
an  hour,^  and  I  am  certain  he  never  suffered  at  all; 
I  asked  our  medical  officer  specially  about  this.  His 
body  was  brought  down  here,  and  was  buried  yester- 
day by  our  chaplain,  the  Revd.  G.  M.  S.  Oldham,  at 
Canada  Farm. 

I  am  sending  you  a  map  of  his  (your  son's), ^  and 
I  have  marked  with  a  blue  cross  the  exact  spot  where 
he  was  killed.  It  is  just  south  of  a  place  marked 
Cannes  Farm,  and  north-east  of  Wijden  Drift.  It  is 
on  the  right  of  the  map.  He  is  buried  at  Canada  Farm, 
which  I  have  marked  with  blue,  which  is  on  the  left 

^  For  his  devotion  to  duty  on  this  occasion  Private  J.  Lewis  was 
awarded  the  Military  Medal.     He  is  a  Cardiganshire  man. 

'Evidence  subsequently  received  makes  it  clear  that  death  occurred 
within  a  few  minutes. 

*C/.  pp.  aio  and  21 1. 


LETTERS  FROM  FRIENDS        265 

of  the  map.  Canada  Farm  is  about  six  miles  north- 
east of  Poperinghe,  near  the  Poperinghe — Elverdinghe 
Road. 

I  am  sending  home  in  a  registered  parcel  his  small 
belongings  which  were  on  him.  Wrist  watch,  identity 
disc,  pen,  diary,  flask,  pipe,  map,  compass,  cigarette 
case,  whistle,  writing  pad. 

Mr.  Bonsor  is  going  to  make  an  inventory  of  his 
large  kit  this  afternoon,  and  it  will  be  sent  off,  c/o 
Cox's,'  who  will  send  it  on  to  you.  His  revolvers,  field 
glasses,  periscope,  etc.,  will  be  in  that  kit,  and  it  ought 
to  be  home  in  about  a  fortnight  or  three  weeks. 

He  had  only  been  with  us  such  a  short  time  that  it 
seems  very  hard  that  he  should  be  killed  so  soon,  and 
so  young. 

What  work  I  gave  him  to  do  he  always  did  excel- 
lently, and  he  was  splendid  up  in  the  trenches,  for  his 
first  time.  He  didn't  seem  to  care  a  bit  about  the  shells. 
The  men  loved  him  for  that.  Although  he  was  so 
young  they  all  respected  him,  and  knew  at  once  that 
he  was  a  good  officer.  I  feel  his  loss  very  keenly,  and 
can  only  offer  you  my  very  sincerest  sympathy. — Yours 
very  sincerely, 

Arthur  Gibbs. 

Will  you  please  write  and  ask  me  anything  you  want 
to  know? 

Extract  from  a  further  letter  from  Captain 
Gibbs,   dated  September   14TH,    1917. 

I  was  so  glad  to  hear  all  that  you  had  to  say  about 
your  son.  ...     I  am  particularly  happy  to  know  that 


266  CHRISTOPHER 

he  loved  the  Regiment  so,  and  that  he  felt  so  much 
at  home  with  us  all.  It  is  always  so  strange  and  un- 
comfortable for  a  new  officer,  on  joining  a  battalion, 
and  one's  first  three  or  four  weeks  out  here  are  always 
the  worst. 

Duckboards,  or  trenchboards,  are  short  lengths  of 
wooden  track  laid  down  in  the  mud,  either  in  the  open, 
or  in  the  bottom  of  the  trench,  to  make  it  possible  to 
walk  about  when  the  country  gets  wet.  There  are 
miles  and  miles  of  this  track  laid  down  over  the  coun- 
try which  we  have  just  captured  from  the  Germans. 
The  ground  is  so  very  much  cut  up  by  our  shells  that 
one  couldn't  get  about  without  duckboards  to  walk 
upon.    They  are  about  lo  ft.  long  and  2  ft.  wide. 

Company  Headquarters  are  usually  a  little  way  be- 
hind the  front  line.  Last  time  mine  were  about  200 
yards  behind,  and  a  duckboard  track  ran  from  Com- 
pany Headquarters  to  Battalion  Headquarters. 

Your  son  died  where  he  was  hit.  His  body  was 
taken  down  to  Battalion  Headquarters,  and  was  car- 
ried out  from  there  down  to  the  canal,  where  it  was 
put  on  a  limber  and  taken  back  to  our  transport.  .  .  . 
All  the  men  are.  very  upset  about  Christopher's  death, 
and  they  still  talk  about  him,  and  they  miss  him  very 
much.  They  are  always  so  fond  of  young  officers,  and 
it  is  very  nice  to  see  the  way  they  look  after  a  young 
boy  who  hasn't  been  out  here  before,  helping  him  in  a 
lot  of  small  ways,  especially  up  in  the  trenches. 


LETTERS  FROM  FRIENDS        267 

From  Lieut.-Colonel  Douglas  Gordon,  D.S.O., 
Officer  Commanding  the  1st  Battalion 
Welsh  Guards. 

1st  Battalion  Welsh  Guards. 

12.9.17. 

Dear  Mrs.  Tennant, — Firstly  I  want  to  tell  you 
how  very  truly  sorry,  not  only  I  myself  am,  but  the 
whole  Battalion  is,  in  the  very  great  loss  which  you 
have  suffered,  and  we  all  grieve  with  you. 

Your  boy  was  only  with  us  such  a  very  short  time, 
but  during  that  period  he  got  himself  liked  by  all,  and 
was  so  keen  and  took  such  an  interest  in  everything. 
He  was,  too,  I  think  very  happy ;  he  was  always  cheer- 
ful and  smiling. 

He  is  buried  in  a  very  nice  cemetery  not  far  from 
Poperinghe.  His  grave  is  at  the  end  of  the  row,  and 
he  has  men  of  the  Battalion  next  to  him.  If  I  can 
do  anything  of  any  description,  or  tell  you  anything, 
I  beg  of  you  to  ask  me,  and  I  will  do  all  I  can. 

Once  again  please  accept  my  sincerest  sympathy,  and 
believe  me,  yours  sincerely, 

Douglas  Gordon. 

From  Colonel  Lord  Harlech,  Welsh  Guards. 

Regimental  Headquarters^  Welsh  Guards^  Bucking- 
ham Gate,  London,  S.W.i. 

September  yth,  1917. 
Dear  Mrs.  Tennant, — It  is  my  sad  duty  to  write 
and  inform  you  that  I  this  morning  received  a  letter 


268  CHRISTOPHER 

from  Colonel  Gordon  to  say  that  your  son  had  been 
killed  as  he  was  coming  out  of  the  trenches  at  dawn 
on  the  morning  of  the  3rd.  He  was  hit  in  the  head, 
and  died  without  any  pain. 

I  am  afraid  any  words  I  can  put  to  paper  will  fail 
to  express  my  deep  sympathy  with  you  in  the  loss  of 
so  promising  a  son.  The  short  time  he  had  been  in 
the  Regiment  was  quite  sufficient  for  his  Brother  Offi- 
cers to  find  out  what  a  valuable  addition  he  was  to 
the  Regiment,  and  all  who  came  in  contact  with  him 
will  grieve  at  his  loss,  but  to  you,  I  am  sure,  it  is  quite 
irreparable.  His  CO.  says  that  he  only  came  across 
him  for  the  first  time  on  the  18th  of  last  month,  but 
the  little  he  saw  of  him  he  liked  immensely.  He  adds 
that  he  always  seemed  so  happy  and  cheerful.  We  can 
ill  spare  young  men  like  him  in  the  Regiment. — I  am, 
yours  sincerely, 

Harlech. 

Extract  from  letter  from  Captain  Williams 
BuLKELEY,^  Regimental  Adjutant,  Welsh 
Guards. 

"I  at  once  marked  him  as  a  really  good  boy,  and 
one  of  the  right  sort.  He  was  most  popular  with  all 
who  knew  him,  and  a  keen  soldier,  who,  if  time  had 
allowed,  would  have  made  a  name  for  himself.  It 
is  always  the  good  ones  that  are  taken  much  too 
soon." 

*  Wounded  December,  1915,  and  awarded  the  Military  Cross;  died 
after  a  long  illness  consequent  on  wounds,  March,  1918. 


LETTERS  FROM  FRIENDS        269 

Extract  from  letter  from  Captain  W.  A.  Fox- 
Pitt,  M.C.,  Adjutant,  2nd  (Reserve)  Bat- 
talion, Welsh  Guards. 

"I  knew  your  son  very  well  while  he  was  with  the 
(Reserve)  Battalion,  and  we  all  know  what  a  loss  the 
Regiment  has  suffered  by  his  death. 

"He  is  the  sort  of  officer  it  is  pleasant  to  have  un- 
der one,  and  as  his  Adjutant  I  could  always  rely  upon 
him  to  do  any  job  he  was  given  properly. 

".  .  .  The  first  thing  that  people  noticed  were  his 
good  manners,  and  when  one  got  to  know  him  one 
realised  what  a  great  gentleman  he  was  and  what  an 
extraordinarily  nice  mind  he  had  got;  he  always  struck 
me  as  being  very  young  for  his  age,  but,  on  the  other 
hand,  perfectly  capable  to  talk  about  any  subject,  and 
to  have  opinions  that  were  his  own." 

Letter   from   Sec-Lieut.   C.   Penfold  Ballard, 
Welsh  Guards.^ 

B.E.F.,  France^  6.8.17. 

Dear  Mrs.  Tennant, — This  is  the  first  oppor- 
tunity I  have  had,  since  leaving  the  "line"  for  this 
rest  camp  two  days  ago,  of  writing  to  express  my  deep- 
est sympathy  with  you  in  the  irreparable  loss  you  have 
sustained  in  the  death  of  your  dear  son.  I  had  the 
warmest  regard  for  him,  and  feel  I  have  lost  a  true 
friend. 

At  twelve  o'clock  on  the  night  before  he  was  hit  he 
visited  my   dug-out — his   position   was  next  mine — 

*Mr.  Ballard  was  killed  in  action,  March  10th,  1918. 


270  CHRISTOPHER 

and  we  had  a  cigarette  together.  I  then  saw  him  to 
his  dug-out,  when  he  told  me  he  was  very  disappointed 
he  had  received  a  wire  saying  you  were  prevented  from 
going  to  Paris,  but  that  he  was  going  there  alone  after' 
he  had  left  Company  Headquarters  at  3.30  a.m.  It 
was  after  leaving  there  he  was  struck  down  by  a  shell. 
I  have  seen  his  servant,  Hobbs,  who  was  also  slightly 
wounded,  and  he  has  given  me  full  particulars.  Hobbs 
has  looked  after  your  son  with  the  greatest  assiduity 
and  kindly  care,  and  is  very  cut  up.  I  was  not  out 
of  the  line  in  time  to  attend  his  funeral,  but  I  have 
seen  his  grave,  which  is  in  a  very  nice  position  here. . . . 
— I  remain,  yours  very  sincerely, 

Chas.  Pen  fold  Ballard. 


Extract  from  a  further  letter  from  Sec-Lieut. 
Ballard,  dated  September  qth. 

"Your  dear  son  and  myself  had  always  something 
in  common.  We  shared  the  same  tent  before  going 
into  the  line,  and  he  showed  me  your  photographs, 
which  he  always  placed  open  near  his  bed  at  night.  I 
was  in  command  of  No.  10  and  half  of  No.  9  platoon, 
and  the  Prince  of  Wales's  was  next  me,  and  as  our 
dug-outs  were  only  15  yards  apart  we  always  visited 
one  another  once  or  twice  a  day.  Your  son  was  in  my 
dug-out  and  I  saw  him  to  his  at  twelve  o'clock,  a  few 
hours  before  his  death,  which  occurred  a  few  hours 
later  on  the  duckboards.  .  .  .  He  was  unusually 
bright  and  cheerful — so  much  so  that  I  could  not  help 
remarking  it.    He  often  told  me  he  loved  the  Welsh 


LETTERS  FROM  FRIENDS       271 

Guards.     I  know  they  loved  him,  as  I  have  seen  let- 
ters written  by  the  men,  which  I  have  censored." 

Extract  from  letter  from  the  Rev.  G.  Miles 
Staveley  Oldham,  C.F.,  attached  to  the  1st 
Battalion  Welsh  Guards.^ 

October  ^th,  1917. 
I  have  waited  a  bit  to  answer  your  letter  to  me  about 
your  son  until  I  could  get  a  quiet  time.  We  were  hav- 
ing an  unpleasant  time  and  moving  about  a  good  deal 
when  your  letter  came,  which  makes  letter-writing  dif- 
ficult. ...  I  think  you  will  like  me  to  tell  you  all  I 
knew  of  Christopher.  He  came  to  the  Battalion  when 
we  were  in  a  very  jolly  camp,  some  miles  behind  the 
line,  and  he  very  quickly  entered  into  things — ^play- 
ing cricket  with  his  Company,  and  in  scratch  games. 
I  was  attracted  to  him  at  once  as  he  was  an  old  Wyke- 
hamist— as  so  many  of  my  Oxford  friends  were — and 
I  was  always  brought  up  to  venerate  the  old  English 
schools,  and  we  had  old  associations  with  Winchester 
at  Westminster  (where  I  was),  and  I  played  football 
against  them  one  year  for  my  College.  I  think  every- 
one too  liked  him  because  he  was  quiet  and  did  not 
"thrust  himself  forward"  in  the  mess,  while  at  the 
same  time  he  entered  into  things  and  could  obviously 
hold  his  own  in  conversation  and  otherwise  when  it 
came  to  the  point.  I  remember,  too,  his  telling  me 
how  delighted  he  was  to  find  a  number  of  men  from  his 
own  part  of  Wales — he  was  so  awfully  keen  on  his 
country — and  on  the  other  side  one  or  two  men  men- 

^See  pp.   337,  249. 


272  CHRISTOPHER 

tioned  to  me  that  "Mr.  Tennant"  came  from  their 
part,  and  had  spoken  to  them  of  it — which  they  ap- 
preciated; they  spoke  of  this  to  me  both  before  and 
after  he  was  killed.  I  recollect,  too,  one  evening  when 
the  German  aeroplanes  were  round  about  dropping 
bombs,  and  our  guns  were  firing,  that  we  talked  about 
what  it  was  like  to  be  under  fire;  and  I  think  that  we 
came  to  the  conclusion  that  it  was  not  the  fear  of 
death,  but  rather  the  "not  knowing"  what  being  under 
fire  would  be  like,  and  what  one  would  find  difficult, 
that  was  the  worst  part.  When  I  was  sharing  a  tent 
with  him  at  the  end  of  August  I  noticed  that  he  was 
very  fond  of  reading,  and  one  night  at  mess  we  had 
a  long  talk  on  books.  .  .  .  and  we  had  a  great  ex- 
change of  ideas  and  likes  and  dislikes  on  the  subject; 
and  I  think  we  had  a  discussion  as  to  whether  history 
should  not  play  a  very  much  larger  part  in  all  educa- 
tion than  it  does  to-day. 

My  last  recollection  of  your  son  is  seeing  him  in  his 
service  equipment  just  before  he  marched  off  to  the 
trenches  with  his  Company.  He  was  quite  cheery  and 
happy,  and  his  usual  self  in  every  way,  as  far  as  I 
could  tell ;  and  I  think  he  would  be. 

I  was  up  the  line  the  day  he  was  killed,  and  on  my 
way  back  called  in  at  the  Regimental  Aid  Post  to  take 
his  servant  Hobbs  down  with  our  party.  I  noticed 
Hobbs  was  shaken  a  good  deal  by  the  loss  of  your 
son;  his  own  wounds  were  quite  slight.  Hobbs,  as  you 
know,  is  a  splendid  man,  and  he  has  since  talked  to  me 
of  your  son  two  or  three  times,  and  I  know  he  was 
very  delighted  to  be  Christopher's  servant.  I  shall 
certainly  try  to  keep  in  touch  with  Hobbs. 


LETTERS  FROM  FRIENDS       273 

Your  son  was  buried  in  a  military  cemetery,  and  his 
grave  is  followed  by  seven  of  his  fellow  Welsh  Guards- 
men in  the  same  row.  Your  son's  is  the  first  in  the 
row.  They  have  all  similar  crosses,  just  with  their 
name  and  rank,  regiment,  and  "killed  in  action,"  with 
the  date,  and  a  regimental  badge  at  the  top  of  the  cross. 
I  think  it  is  one  of  the  good  points  out  here  that  officers 
and  men  are  treated  exactly  alike  when  it  comes  to  their 
last  earthly  incident.  Christopher's  body  was  wrapped 
in  a  blanket,  covered  with  the  Union  Jack  (we  have 
not  got  a  Red  Dragon  of  Wales),  and  there  was  no 
music.  Highland  pipers  are  the  only  ones  I  have  heard 
playing  at  a  funeral  out  here.  The  place  is  well  with- 
in sound  and  reach  of  shells,  but  I  cannot  be  quite 
certain  whether  the  guns  were  firing  at  the  moment, 
though  I  have  often  noticed  them  when  taking  ser- 
vices at  the  same  cemetery.  The  officers  present  were 
Major  R.  Luxmore-Ball,  Lieut.  Keith  Menzies,  Lieut. 
Francis  Fripp.  The  Commanding  Officer  and  all  the 
other  officers  were  in  the  line,  of  course,  at  the  time, 
and  so  could  not  attend.  I  took  the  service,  and  all 
the  men  not  in  the  Ime  were  present.  .  .  . 

I  think  you  may  care  to  know  the  exact  Service 
which  I  read.  I  like  to  read  always  exactly  the  same 
Service  for  officers  and  men,  and  you  will  understand 
that  the  men  are  not  all  accustomed  to  our  Prayer 
Book  Services;  and  that  they  are  not  easy  conditions 
for  a  Service,  to  stand  for  a  long  time,  sometimes  when 
shells  may  be  near.  I  have  tried  therefore  to  make  the 
Burial  Service  rather  short,  so  that  the  men  may  at- 
tend carefully  all  the  time,  and  as  simple  as  possible, 
that  they  may  understand  it,  and  I  have  tried  to  bring 


274  CHRISTOPHER 

out  the  glorious  hope  of  Resurrection  to  Eternal  Life, 
and  the  fact  that  the  soldier's  spirit — his  real  self — 
still  lives,  and  that  we  are  burying  the  body  only.  So 
I  enclose  the  exact  form  of  Service  I  read,  and  I  ask 
you  to  forgive  me  if  you  are  disappointed  that  the 
full  Prayer  Book  Service  was  not  used,  and  if  the 
alterations  and  additions  jar  upon  you.  I  do  appreciate 
so  much  the  view  of  those  who  love  our  Prayer  Book 
and  wish  for  that  only;  but  out  here  I  do  also  feel 
the  other  side.  So,  if  I  have  done  less  than  you  would 
have  liked,  I  can  only  ask  you  to  forgive  me,  and  to 
feel  something  of  a  Chaplain's  difficulties  out  here, 
dealing  with  "all  sorts  and  conditions  of  men,"  and 
yet  for  whom  there  is  ''One  God  and  Father  of  all." 
— I  remain,  yours  sincerely, 

G.  Miles  Staveley  Oldham. 


The  Service. 
Versicles. 


"I  am  the  Resurrection,  and  the  Life:  he  that  believeth  in 
Me,  though  he  were  dead,  yet  shall  he  live:  and  whosoever 
liveth  and  believeth  in  Me  shall  never  die." 

"We  brought  nothing  into  this  world,  and  it  is  certain  we 
can  carry  nothing  out." 

"The  Lord  gave  and  the  Lord  hath  taken  away;  blessed  be 
the  name  of  the  Lord." 

Psalm  xxiii.  (in  full). 

Tke  Lesson.    Parts  of  i  Corinthians  xv.,  as  follows. 

But  now  is  Christ  risen  from  the  dead,  and  become  the  first- 
fruits  of  them  that  slept.  For  since  by  man  came  death,  by 
man  came  also  the  resurrection  of  the  dead.  For  as  in  Adam 
all  die,  even  so  in  Christ  shall  all  be  made  alive.     But  every 


LETTERS  FROM  FRIENDS       275 

man  in  his  own  order;  Christ  the  firstfruits;  afterwards  they 
that  are  Christ's  at  His  coming.  Then  shall  be  brought  to 
pass  the  saying  that  is  written,  Death  is  swallowed  up  in  Vic- 
tory. .  .  .  O  death,  where  is  thy  sting  ?  O  grave,  where  is  thy 
victory?  But  thanks  be  to  God,  which  giveth  us  the  victory 
through  our  Lord  Jesus  Christ.  Therefore,  my  beloved  breth- 
ren, be  ye  steadfast,  unmoveable,  always  abounding  in  the 
work  of  the  Lord,  forasmuch  as  ye  know  that  your  labour  is 
not  in  vain  in  the  Lord. 

Committal  Prayer. 

As  in  Prayer  Book,  substituting  "our  comrade"  for  "our  dear 
brother." 

Versicle. 

"I  heard  a  voice  from  heaven,  saying  unto  me.  Write,  from 
henceforth  blessed  are  the  dead  which  die  in  the  Lord:  even 
so  saith  the  Spirit;  for  they  rest  from  their  labours." 

The  Lord's  Prayer. 
Prayer  of  Commendation. 

"Almighty  God,  with  whom  do  live  the  spirits  of  them  that 
depart  in  the  faith  and  fear  of  the  Lord,  we  commend  to  Thy 
loving  mercy  the  soul  of  this  our  comrade  who  has  laid  down 
his  life  in  the  service  of  his  country.  We  pray  Thee  to  pardon 
all  his  sins,  and  to  show  Thyself  unto  him  in  Thy  saving 
grace:  that  so  he  may  pass  from  this  earthly  strife  into  the 
peace  and  joy  of  Thy  Heavenly  Kingdom:  through  Jesus 
Christ  our  Lord  and  Saviour." 


Prayer  for  Those  who  Mourn  at  Home. 

"Almighty  God,  our  Heavenly  Father,  regard  with  Thy 
tender  compassion  those  at  home  to  whom  this  our  comrade  is 
near  and  dear.  Strengthen  them  to  bear  their  sorrow,  and 
lead  them  to  put  all  their  hope  and  trust  in  Thy  loving  mercy 
and  Fatherly  care:  through  Jesus  Christ,  our  Lord  and 
Saviour." 


276  CHRISTOPHER 

The  Blessing. 

"Unto  God's  gracious  mercy  and  protection  we  commit  thee : 
and  the  blessing  of  God  Almighty,  the  Father,  the  Son,  and 
the  Holy  Spirit,  be  with  thee,  now  and  for  evermore."    Amen. 

The  body  is  saluted  by  each  officer  as  he  leaves  the  grave- 
side in  turn. 


From  Mr.  H.  de  Satge,  attached  1st  Battalion 
Welsh  Guards. 

12.9.17. 
Dear  Mrs.  Tennant, — Ballard  told  me  that  you 
would  like  to  hear  from  me,  or  I  would  not,  a  total 
stranger,  intrude  on  your  great  sorrow,  but  I  should 
like  to  express  my  deep  sympathy  in  your  great  loss. 
I  shared  a  tent  with  your  son,  and  had  an  oppor- 
tunity of  learning  to  know  him  and  appreciate  his 
lovable  nature  and  many  qualities.  I  have  had  in 
my  eleven  years'  experience  as  a  master  at  Eton  Col- 
lege the  best  opportunity  of  studying  young  boys  and 
men,  and  your  son  struck  me  as  being  one  of  the  best 
products  of  your  fine  public  schools.  He  was  so  keen 
and  straight,  and  had  such  nice  manners.  It  seems 
such  a  cruel  shame  that  such  a  promising  young  life 
should  have  come  to  such  a  tragic  and  sudden  end, 
and  I  can  well  understand  what  a  terrible  blow  his 
death  is  to  you.  He  was  so  proud  of  you,  and  showed 
me  your  photograph,  and  spoke  of  you  as  I  hope  my  son 
may  speak  of  his  mother  and  me.  Please  do  not  take 
the  trouble  to  answer  this  poor  expression  of  my  real 
sympathy  and  sorrow. — Yours  very  truly, 

J.  C.  H.  DE  Satge. 


LETTERS  FROM  FRIENDS        277 

From  Sec-Lieut.  T.  H.  B.  Webb,  Welsh  Guards.^ 

Welsh  Guards,  B.E.F. 

September  \^th. 

Dear  Mrs.  Tennant, — I  feel  that  you  may  per- 
haps like  to  hear  from  me,  as  being  the  person  who 
probably  knew  your  son  better  than  anyone  else  in 
the  Regiment.  I  was,  as  you  may  know,  at  Win- 
chester with  him  for  four  years,  and  came  out  here 
at  the  same  time  as  he  did. 

I  know  he  enjoyed  his  life  out  here  and  with  the 
2nd  Battalion  thoroughly.  In  fact,  he  told  me  out 
here  that  he  was  having  the  best  time  of  his  life. 
He  was  popular  with  everybody,  and  had  the  respect 
of  his  men,  as  he  was  always  cheerful,  and  very  cool 
under  fire.  He  did  his  job  excellently  for  the  whole 
time  he  was  out  here. 

With  regard  to  his  death,  I  know  you  have  heard 
the  whole  story  from  his  servant,  Hobbs.  It  was 
quite  unavoidable,  just  one  of  those  bits  of  bad  luck 
which  go  to  make  up  this  business  of  war.  The  great 
thing  is,  he  was  doing  his  job  up  in  the  line,  and 
did  not  get  hit  by  a  stray  shell  miles  behind,  which 
is  the  fate  of  many  poor  people.  Also  he  was  killed 
practically  outright  and  suffered  nothing.  If  he  was 
going  to  be  knocked  out  it  could  not  possibly  have 
happened  in  a  better  way.  But  even  so  the  whole  thing 
is  a  horrible  affair,  and  I  can  only  express  my  sympathy 
with  you,  and  sorrow  that  the  Regiment  has  lost  such 
a  good  officer.    If  there  is  anything  else  I  could  tell 

*Mr.  Webb  was  killed   in   action   December   ist,   1917. 


278  CHRISTOPHER 

you  about  him,  I  should  be  only  too  pleased  to  do  so. 
— Yours  sincerely, 

T.  H.  B.  Webb. 

B.E.F.,  September  24/^,  1917. 

Dear  Mrs.  Tennant, — My  last  letter  must  have 
seemed  to  you  to  be  rather  formal  and  scrappy.  This 
was  due  to  a  certain  diffidence  I  felt  in  pushing  my- 
self forward  on  such  a  subject,  but  now  that  you 
have  asked  me  to  enter  on  a  more  intimate  corre- 
spondence I  will  gladly  do  so.  It  is  the  least  we 
who  have  the  luck  can  do  for  those  who  don't;  to 
help  to  bridge  the  great  gulf  fixed  between  them  and 
their  folk  at  home  and  to  bring  the  history  of  their 
time  out  here  to  the  ears  of  those  whom  it  interests 
most. 

As  to  what  happens  afterwards,  I  am  not  surprised 
to  learn  what  his  views  were.  Such  things  are, 
not  unnaturally  perhaps,  practically  never  discussed 
amongst  us  out  here.  Of  course,  such  thoughts  are 
present  in  the  minds  of  most  of  us,  and  that  is  the 
reason  we  steer  so  very  clear  of  them  in  our  talk.  But 
to  me  it  seems  incredible  that  all  these  men  have  simply 
been  snuffed  out  like  a  candle.  If  leaving  this  world 
means  disappearing  altogether,  the  whole  point  of  stay- 
ing in  it  disappears  also,  and  life  resolves  itself  into  a 
monstrous  practical  joke  perpetrated  on  generations  of 
mankind. 

With  regard  to  the  incident  referred  to  by  one  of 
our  men  on  leave,  I  think  the  true  story  is  as  follows : 
Captain  Gibbs  rang  up  Captain  Devas  to  ask  when 
Christopher's  leave  was  due,  and,  as  it  is  never  wise  to 


LETTERS  FROM  FRIENDS       279 

mention  dates  on  the  telephone  within  a  mile  of  the 
enemy,  as  they  can  overhear,  Captain  Devas  replied, 
"The  day  before  my  birthday,"  knowing  that  Captain 
Gibbs  knew  what  day  that  was,  i.e.  the  5th  of  Sep- 
tember, Christopher's  leave  being  due  on  the  4th.  My 
leave  came  off  all  right  on  that  day,  and  I  went  there 
straight  from  the  line.  I  was  in  during  the  days 
Christopher  was  there,  but  further  to  the  left,  and  as 
communication  was  impossible  by  daylight  there — 
everything  had  to  go  over  the  top,  there  being  no  com- 
munication trenches — I  knew  nothing  about  his  death 
till  the  evening  of  that  day,  in  fact  just  before  I  started 
for  Paris.  .  .  . 

We  were  only  under  iire  once  together,  and  on  that 
occasion  he  displayed  the  utmost  coolness.  He  always 
said  it  was  no  good  worrying,  as  it  would  make  no  dif- 
ference to  the  ultimate  result. — Yours  sincerely, 

T.  H.  B.  Webb. 

From  Lieut.  Geoffrey  C.  H.  Crawshay,  Welsh 

Guards  ^ 

White's,  St.  James's  Street,  S.Wa, 

24.9.17. 
Dear  Mrs.  Tennant, — I  haven't  written  to  you 
before  because  I  felt  I  couldn't  express  all  that  I 
wanted  to  say  to  you.     It  is  so  much  easier  to  write 
about  something  which  one  doesn't  feel  too  deeply. 

There  was  something  about  Christopher  which  placed 
him  on  a  level  so  much  above  those  of  his  own  age. 
I  always  thought  it  was  mainly  due  to  his  home  in- 

^See  pp.  211  and  223. 


280  CHRISTOPHER 

fluence.  The  love  he  had  for  you,  his  home,  and  Wales, 
came  first  in  his  life;  and  then  he  stood  for  so  much 
that  was  good  and  best  in  the  world. 

I  can  but  be  thankful  that  I  knew  him,  if  even  for 
so  short  a  time,  for  I  shall  never  forget  him.  To  me 
and  all  those  in  the  Regiment  who  knew  him  his  name 
must  ever  be  an  affectionate  memory.  Pray  God  that 
the  sacrifice  of  such  a  glorious  life  may  not  be  in 
vain.  Some  day  I  hope  to  meet  you,  and  then  per- 
haps merely  by  a  handshake  you  may  know  that  there 
is  one  who  deeply  shares  your  sorrow. — Believe  me, 
yours  very  sincerely, 

Geoffrey  C.  H.  Crawshay. 

Extract  from  a  letter  of  September  i8th,  1917, 
FROM  Private  Hobbs,  who  acted  as  servant 
TO  G.  C.  S.  T.  IN  France  and  Flanders. 

On  September  3rd,  Mr.  Tennant,  his  Orderly,  and 
I  were  leaving  the  trenches,  when  suddenly  they  opened 
a  barrage  just  where  we  were — we  were  only  about 
one  foot  apart.  We  instantly  fell  to  the  floor,  and  I 
heard  Mr.  Tennant  say,  "Oh,  Hobbs,  I'm  hit  in  the 
eye !" 

He  was  a  very  brave  Officer,  and  was  very  much 
liked  by  all  the  men  in  his  platoon,  and  it  came  as  a 
great  shock  to  them  when  they  heard  the  sad  news. 
The  orderly  who  was  with  Mr.  Tennant  until  the  day 
we  left  the  front  line  for  Company  Headquarters  was 
Private  Rees,  of  the  Prince  of  Wales's  Company.  We 
left  him  behind  at  the  front  line.  At  Headquarters  we 
asked  Lewis  to  show  us  the  way  down.    We  had  not 


LETTERS  FROM  FRIENDS        281 

gone  more  than  200  yards  from  Headquarters  when 
they  opened  the  barrage.  I  have  heard  nothing  of 
Lewis  since  he  went  away,  and  I  do  not  know  into  what 
hospital  he  has  gone. 

Mr.  Tennant  was  very  jolly  and  interested  whilst 
in  the  line,  and  the  boys  thought  a  lot  of  him.  He 
would  go  amongst  them  and  talk  with  them  and  also 
supply  them  with  cigarettes.  One  could  not  wish 
to  have  a  better  Officer.  Mr.  Tennant  usually  spent 
most  of  his  time  in  the  line  with  myself  and  Mr.  Bal- 
lard. Mr.  Bonsor  used  to  come  over  and  see  us  occa- 
sionally, also  Captain  Gibbs,  who  used  to  think  so 
much  of  him.  I  lost  a  good  master  in  Mr.  Teimant, 
and  I  shall  never  have  another  one  like  him. 

Extract  from  a  letter  from  Lance-Corporal 
G.  H.  Llewellyn,^  No.  4  Platoon,  Prince  of 
Wales's  Company,  1st  Battalion  Welsh 
Guards. 

Though  Mr.  Tennant  was  with  us  so  short  a  time, 
yet  his  stay  was  sufficiently  long  for  us  to  realise  what 
a  sterling  leader  we  had.  His  whole  thought  was  for 
our  comfort,  and  whatever  comfort  he  could  get  under 
conditions  out  here  he  spared  no  effort  to  get  for  us. 
He  also  took  great  interest  in  our  sport  while  out  of 
the  trenches,  and  proved  himself  no  mean  sportsman. 
We  all  will  remember  the  great  asset  he  was  to  us  as 
a  cricketer,  and  the  pleasant  times  we  spent  with  him 
in  this  pastime.  In  the  name  of  the  platoon  I  offer 
you  our  sincerest  sympathy  in  your  sad  bereavement. 

*  Wounded  December  ist,  1917.     His  home  is  in  Swansea. 


282  CHRISTOPHER 

The  following  additional  details  are  taken  from  an 
account  given  by  Private  William  Rees,  Welsh 
Guards,  who  was  Christopher's  Orderly  during  the  days 
he  was  in  the  front  line: 


I  first  had  speech  with  Mr.  Tennant  on  the  evening  of 
Friday,  August  31st,  when  No.  4  platoon  started  for  the  front 
line.  When  we  were  marching  up  Mr.  Tennant  called  out  for 
me,  and  said,  "Come  and  walk  ahead  of  the  platoon  with  me." 
We  therefore  walked  up  to  the  front  line — some  nine  miles — 
side  by  side.  Mr.  Tennant  asked  me  if  I  was  a  Welshman, 
and  on  hearing  that  I  came  from  Port  Talbot^  talk  fell  on 
Wales  and  home  affairs.  We  got  into  the  trenches  after  much 
clambering  over  mud  and  shell  holes,  and  established  ourselves 
in  a  concrete  blockhouse.  This  had  a  concrete  floor,  the  ceiling 
and  sides  being  boarded;  it  was  pitch  dark,  and  was  lighted 
by  candles. 

On  entering  we  found  the  complete  kit  of  an  officer  in  the 
Scots  Guards,  and  Mr.  Tennant  proceeded  to  inspect  it.  Some 
boxes  of  cigarettes,  a  small  Bible,  and  a  water-bottle,  etc.,  were 
all  there.  The  officer  to  whom  they  belonged  had  been 
wounded  earlier  in  the  day.  After  looking  round  Mr.  Ten- 
nant said  to  me  that  he  wanted  to  go  and  inspect  the  machine- 
gun  posts  out  beyond  No  Man's  Land.  These  were  in  charge 
of  Corporal  Llewellyn,  a  Swansea  man,  since  wounded.  Mr. 
Tennant  was  dressed  as  a  private  soldier,  with  black  top  boots, 
shrapnel  helmet,  and  a  rifle  slung  on  his  shoulders.  He  had 
both  his  revolvers. 

We  started  over  No  Man's  Land  to  visit  the  machine-gun 
posts.  Mr.  Tennant  was  a  good  soldier.  He  didn't  know 
what  fear  was,  but  he  was  not  reckless  or  foolhardy.  In  going 
over  No  Man's  Land  we  were  under  a  hail  of  shells,  and  had 
to  throw  ourselves  into  shell  holes  several  times.  A  bombard- 
ment was  going  on,  and  the  German  snipers  were  awful ;  no 
one  could  move  but  he  had  a  bullet  past  him.  It  was  brilliant 
moonlight  all  the  three  nights  Mr.  Tennant  was  in  the 
trenches,  which  made  it  more  dangerous.    We  got  to  the  Lewis- 

*A  few  miles  from  Neath. 


LETTERS  FROM  FRIENDS        283 

gun  posts,  and  after  inspecting  them  made  our  way  back  to  the 
dug-out.  Hobbs  had  by  this  time  arrived  with  the  kit  and 
provisions.  A  green  bolster-shaped  kit  bag  belonging  to  Mr. 
Tennant  was  in  the  dug-out,  and  he  used  this  as  a  seat.  He 
read  a  good  deal  both  from  a  paper-covered  book  ^  and  a  small 
blue  book. 

He  also  wrote  some  letters,  and  censored  a  number  of  men's 
letters.  He  received  letters  himself  in  the  trenches,  and  told 
me  he  was  so  disappointed  that  his  mother  could  not  meet  him 
in  Paris  where  he  was  going  on  leave  on  September  4th. 

He  was  specially  loved  by  us  men  because  he  wasn't  like 
some  officers  who  go  into  their  dug-outs  and  stay  there,  leaving 
the  men  outside.  He  had  us  all  in  all  day  long,  his  dug-out 
was  full  of  private  soldiers  the  whole  time,  many  smoking, 
others  writing  letters.  Our  rations  had  not  come  up  to  begin 
with,  and  Mr.  Tennant  gave  us  out  cigarettes.  The  men 
would  have  done  more  for  him  than  for  many  another  officer 
because  he  was  so  friendly  with  them,  and  he  knew  his  job. 
He  was  a  fine  soldier,  and  they  knew  it. 

After  coming  back  from  inspecting  the  outlying  machine- 
gun  posts.  Captain  Gibbs  came  in  and  questioned  Mr.  Ten- 
nant as  to  the  position  generally.  Mr.  Tennant  said  he  had 
been  out  and  inspected  the  posts.  Captain  Gibbs  said,  "We'd 
better  go  out  again  and  make  sure."  Captain  Gibbs,  Mr.  Ten- 
nant, and  I  then  went  out  and  again  visited  the  machine-gun 
posts.  This  No  Man's  Land  was  strewn  with  dead — groups 
of  them  lying  here  and  there.  Mr.  Tennant  appeared  quite 
calm  and  undisturbed — he  was  perfectly  cheerful  during  the 
whole  time  he  was  in  the  line. 

On  the  Sunday  night,  when  Mr.  Tennant  was  due  to  go  out 
of  the  line  on  leave,  Mr.  Bonsor  came  into  the  dug-out  and 
said  to  Mr.  Tennant,  "For  God's  sake,  Tennant,  get  off  quick- 
ly. There's  a  fearful  bombardment  going  on,  and  it's  going  to 
get  worse."  Mr.  Tennant  replied,  "I  don't  mind  the  shells; 
what  I  object  to  is  the  snipers." 

His  kit,  etc.,  was  gathered  together,  and  he  and  I  and  Hobbs 
started  off  from  the  dug-out  to  go  to  Captain  Gibbs's  Head- 
quarters. It  took  about  ten  minutes — over  shell  holes  and 
through  thick  mud.     Shells  were  falling  all  the  time.     We 

*  A  small  volume  of  poems.    See  p.  261. 


284  CHRISTOPHER 

reached  Captain  Gibbs's  Headquarters  safely.  I  had  both  my 
own  and  Mr.  Tennant's  rifle  slung  over  my  shoulders.  Hobbs 
was  carrying  Mr.  Tennant's  kit. 

After  an  interval  Mr.  Tennant,  Hobbs,  and  Private  Lewis 
started  off  from  Company  Headquarters  to  go  to  Battalion 
Headquarters  on  their  way  out  of  the  line,  and  I  remained  in 
Captain  Gibbs's  dug-out.  I  had  not  done  much  more  than 
take  my  equipment  off  when  Lewis  staggered  in  pouring  with 
blood  and  said  that  an  officer  had  been  hit. 

Stretcher  bearers  started  at  once,  and  I,  feeling  sure  it  must 
be  Mr.  Tennant,  went  with  them.  Shells  were  pouring  over. 
We  went  along  the  duckboard  and  found  Mr.  Tennant's  body 
lying  in  a  shell  hole  beside  it.  I  saw  Mr.  Tennant  within  five 
or  six  minutes  of  his  being  hit,  and  he  was  then  dead,  and  his 
body  lying  in  a  shell  hole  as  if  it  had  fallen  into  it  on  being 
hit  whilst  he  was  standing  on  the  duckboard. 

This  part  of  the  line  had  been  quite  peaceful  for  weeks.  A 
sergeant  who  was  sent  up  to  find  out  what  sort  of  trenches  we 
were  going  up  to  and  what  sort  of  time  the  regiment  we  were 
relieving  had  had,  reported  that  it  was  a  "cushy  place,"  the 
Scots  Guards  having  had  hardly  any  casualties,  and  the  place 
bearing  the  reputation  of  being  quite  quiet. 

But  from  a  short  time  before  the  Welsh  Guards  took  it  over 
it  became  an  absolute  hell.  In  all  my  experience  of  the 
trenches  I  never  knew  anything  like  those  four  days.^  There 
was  a  rain  of  shells  all  over  that  particular  place.  On  Sep- 
tember 3rd  (Mr.  Tennant  having  been  killed  at  dawn  that 
day)  we  suffered  severe  casualties,  and  the  regiment  which 
relieved  us  had  the  same  experience.  A  few  days  later  the 
Germans  during  a  raid  entered  the  trench,  and  appeared  to 
know  every  turn  and  the  position  of  every  post. 

The  letters  which  follow  were  written  for  the  most 
part  by  intimate  friends  of  Christopher's.  They  are 
included  as  having  an  interest  for  those  in  whom  this 

*Mr.  Ballard  told  his  wife  that  though  he  had  been  through  the 
subsequent  fighting  at  Houthulst  Forest,  and  at  Cambrai  (in  Decem- 
ber, 19x7),  the  memory  of  those  days — August  31st  to  September  4th— 
remained  as  his  worst  experience  of  trench  warfare. 


LETTERS  FROM  FRIENDS        285 

record  of  his  life  and  character  have  aroused  feelings 
of  sympathy. 

Extract  from  a  letter  from  Lady  Betty 
Balfour. 

Whittinghame^  Prestonkirk^  Scotland, 

September  Stk,  19 1 7. 
What  does  it  all  mean — and  what  through  this  tor- 
ture of  suffering  and  sacrifice  is  to  evolve  for  man- 
kind? Bill  sent  Ruth  a  sermon  he  heard  at  the  front 
the  beginning  of  this  fourth  year  of  war.  It  ended 
with  these  lines: — 

"In  Flanders'  fields  the  poppies  blow, 
Between  the  crosses  row  on  row 
That  mark  our  place:  and  in  the  sky 
The  larks,  still  bravely  singing,  fly 
Scarce  heard  amid  the  guns  below. 
We  are  the  dead.     Short  days  ago 
We  lived,  felt  dawn,  saw  sunset  glow, 
Loved  and  were  loved;  and  now  we  lie 
In  Flanders'  fields. 

**Take  up  our  quarrel  with  the  foe, 
To  you  from  failing  hands  we  throw 
The  Torch — be  yours  to  hold  it  high; 
If  ye  break  faith  with  us  who  die, 
We  shall  not  sleep,  though  poppies  grow, 
In  Flanders'  fields."  ^ 

Christopher  had  no  quarrel — and  no  foe.  His  ideals 
were  not  war  ideals.  His  heroism  none  the  less  great. 
Every  man  who  served  with  him  must  have  been 

*  Lines  written  by  Lt-Col.  J.  McCrae,  Canadian  A.M.C. ;  first  pub- 
lished in  Punch.    The  author  died  in  France  in  January,  1918. 


286  CHRISTOPHER 

the  better  for  the  companionship  of  his  gentle,  intel- 
lectual, utterly  good  spirit.  The  random  brutality  of 
this  machine-war  has  set  him  free  almost  in  his  first 
fight — before  he  was  hardened  or  besmirched — and  be- 
fore he  had  had  to  endure  prolonged  suffering.  Like 
a  beautiful  flower  he  has  been  blown  into  safety.  His 
ideals  to  carry  on  are  your  ideals,  to  which  your  life 
has  long  been  consecrate.  To  break  faith  with  him 
would  be  to  live  for  anything  short  of  the  truest,  the 
justest,  the  noblest.  He  was  a  pure  and  perfect  knight, 
if  ever  there  was  one. 

I  do  feel  so  intensely  for  his  Father.  If  you  can, 
tell  him  this  from  me — I  know  he  was  proud  of  and 
devoted  to  Christopher — Christopher  the  little  loved 
boy — the  school  boy — the  scholar — the  soldier.  How 
the  young  life  passes  before  me — West  Downs — ^Win- 
chester— the  Cambridge  that  ought  to  have  been  and 
never  was — the  Army  nightmare — Christopher  in  his 
Guardsman's  uniform,  still  so  utterly  his  reflective, 
independent,  humorous,  gentle  self — and  now  with 
one  flame  gone  beyond  us  all,  out  of  brutal  surround- 
ings for  ever. 

From  Mr.  Montague  Rendall,  Head  Master  of 
Winchester  College. 

September  llM,  1917. 
Dear  Mrs.  Tennant, — I  could  hardly  believe  my 
eyes  when  I  opened  my  paper  this  morning  and  found 
that  your  dear  boy,  whom  I  saw  a  week  or  two  since, 
was  no  more.  You  know  what  I  thought  of  him.  His 
gentle,  pure  soul,  which  spoke  through  his  eyes,  and 


LETTERS  FROM  FRIENDS        287 

innate  refinement  of  character  attracted  me  from  the 
beginning  of  his  time  here;  he  was  a  very  gentle  boy, 
in  the  truest  sense  of  that  good  word. 

Just  at  the  end  I  got  to  know  him  well,  and  valued 
his  trust  and  affection  immensely.  I  know  how  nobly 
he  took  up  work  which  his  soul  hated ;  I  know  that  he 
found  strength  to  stand  fearlessly  amid  a  shower  of 
shells.    How  splendid ! 

But  to  you  the  loss  must  be  beyond  words:  I  can, 
with  a  full  heart,  and  in  no  conventional  terms,  offer 
you  my  sympathy.  May  the  memory  of  him,  blame- 
less and  beautiful  nineteen  years,  be  your  comfort. 

Will  you  kindly  send  me  a  photograph  for  our  War 
Memorial  Volumes  ?  I  have  one  which  he  sent  me  for 
myself,  and  which  I  value  far  too  much  to  part  with  it. 
— Yours  in  profound  s)aiipathy, 

M.  J.  Rendall. 

From  Mr.  Ernest  Harrison,  Tutor  of  Trinity 
College,  Cambridge.^ 

Trinity  College,  Cambridge. 

October  ']th,  19 1 7- 

Dear  Mrs.  Tennant, — Let  me  offer  my  deepest 
sympathy  with  you  in  your  loss,  of  which  your  letter 
gave  me  the  first  news  yesterday. 

I  feel  the  loss  to  the  College  and  myself  more  keenly 
than  in  any  other  case  of  the  kind  that  I  can  remember. 
Your  son  was  clearly  in  love  with  Trinity  in  advance, 
and,  for  myself,  I  felt  that  he  would  soon  have  passed 
from  acquaintance  to  friend.     It  is  touching  to  read 

^See  p.  171. 


288  CHRISTOPHER 

your  evidence  of  the  value  he  attached  to  his  member- 
ship of  our  Society. 

Could  you  spare  me  a  copy  of  the  photograph,  I 
wonder? 

Let  me  quote  a  couplet  that  I  wrote  for  a  cemetery 
behind  the  front: 

"Pro  patria  sociisque  viros  pro  foedere  pacto 
Vim  passos  hominum  pax  tenet  alta  Dei."  ^ 

— Yours  sincerely, 

E.  Harrison. 

Extract  from  letter  from  Hugh  R.  Francis, 
Senior  Prefect,  Kingsgate  House,  Win- 
chester, 1914-1916. 

I  want  to  tell  you  how  very  much  I  have  felt  the 
sad  news  about  Christopher,  although  I  do  not  expect 
that  you  of  all  people  need  to  hear  that,  for  you  knew 
him  as  he  really  was  far  better  than  I  ever  could,  al- 
though I  can  say  that  I  knew  and  loved  him  as  well  as 
any  of  his  friends.  I  shall  always  remember  him  best 
as  he  was  during  those  last  two  and  a  half  years  at 
Winchester,  and  especially  the  terms  when  we  were 
prefects  together  there.  Like  many  at  Winchester,  I 
did  not  learn  to  appreciate  all  that  he  was  at  once, 
but  it  is  not  the  people  that  we  know  and  like  the 
most  quickly  that  are  always  the  best  friends.  I  shall 
always  be  sorry  that  I  saw  so  little  of  him  during  his 

*"For  their  fatherland  and  its  allies  and  for  a  solemn  covenant 
these  soldiers  endured  the  outrages  of  men,  and  now  are  at  rest  in 
the  deep  peace  of  God." 


LETTERS  FROM  FRIENDS        289 

time  at  Sandhurst  and  in  the  Welsh  Guards.  Not 
many  people  of  his  talents  and  ideas  would  have  taken 
to  the  training  and  the  life  as  he  did,  and  loved  it  too, 
as  he  really  did.  Both  he  and  I  were  looking  forward 
very  much  to  seeing  more  of  each  other  when  he  came 
in  to  London  in  the  autumn,  and  it  was  a  real  dis- 
appointment to  me  when  I  heard  he  was  off  so  soon  to 
the  front. 

There  is,  in  a  way,  a  consolation  that  he  should  have 
been  taken  out  of  what  must  be  awful  beyond  belief, 
so  quickly  and  so  gently;  for  if  he  had  gone  through 
months  of  it,  as  some  have,  only  to  fall  in  the  end,  I 
couldn't  have  felt  he  had  had  so  happy  a  life  as  he  has 
had.  ...  I  only  hope  that  what  I  have  written  may 
at  least  show  you  that  his  death  is  a  loss,  not  only  to 
you,  but  in  great  measure  a  loss  to  me  and  all  who  knew 
him." 

From  M.  l'Abbe  Mar9uand.^ 

Le  Foyer  du  Soldat,  Villa  Jeanne  d'Arc, 
Avenue  Godillot^  Hyeres  (Var). 
Madame, — Bien  sou  vent  j'ai  pense  au  cher  Christo- 
phe,  dont  je  garde  le  meilleur  souvenir.  Je  voulais 
vous  en  demander  de  ses  nouvelles  depuis  cette  aff reuse 
guerre  qui  a  fait  tant  de  victimes !  Je  n'osais  le  faire, 
craignant  d'apprendre  un  grand  malheur.  .  .  .  Votre 
lettre  m'apporte  la  certitude  que  je  craignais  de  con- 
naitre,  Merci,  madame,  de  m' avoir  associe  a  votre  dou- 
leur  de  mere.  Cet  enfant  etait  une  merveille,  et  vous 
aurait  donne  toujours  des  joies.    II  a  fait  son  devoir 

*See  p.  109. 


290  CHRISTOPHER 

en  voulant  defendre  son  pays.  II  est  mort  sur  notre 
terre  de  France,  que  vous  aimez,  et  que  vous  aimerez 
encore  davantage.  Nous  saurons  vous  garder  les  corps 
de  vos  aimes — ces  corps  deviendront  de  precieuses 
reliques  que  nous  honorerons  et  que  nous  vous  rendrons 
quand  le  moment  sera  venu. 

Eslo  vir!  Oui,  il  a  ete  un  homme,  et  quel  homme — 
au  cceur  si  tendre  et  si  viril!  Je  pleure  avec  vous, 
madame,  ce  cher  enfant,  et  j'ai  la  certitude  qu'il  vit 
pres  de  Dieu  de  cette  vie  qui  donne  le  vrai  bonheur. 
De  la-haut  il  prie  pour  ceux  qui  souffrent  et  qui  pleu- 
rent.  Comme  c'est  reconfortant  de  croire  a  la  com- 
munion des  saints  I  Oui,  la  mort  n'ote  pas  la  vie — elle 
ne  fait  que  la  changer!  Vous  me  faites  grand  plaisir 
en  me  disant  qu'il  avait  garde  mon  souvenir.  J'ai  tou- 
jours  sa  photographie  lorsqu'il  tenait  son  lapin  blanc 
dans  les  bras.  J'ai  garde  de  vous  tous  un  si  bon  sou- 
venir. Vous  nous  reviendrez,  n'est  pas'?  et  n'oubliez 
pas  que  je  vous  reste  entierement  devoue.  Je  suis  tres 
occupe  par  mon  aumonerie  de  tous  les  hopitaux  mili- 
taires.  Je  suis  a  la  gare  d'Hyeres,  ou  j'ai  fait  batir  une 
eglise.    Venez  bientot  vous  reposer  pres  de  nous. 

Je  prie  pour  ce  cher  enfant  et  pour  vous,  madame. 
La  priere  c'est  le  parfait  trait  d'union  qui  unit  les  ames 
pour  le  temps  et  pour  I'etemite. — Hommages  respec- 
tueux,  de  votre  tout  devoue, 

Abbe  Marquand. 


LETTERS  FROM  FRIENDS        291 

To  Christopher's   father,   from  an   old  game- 
keeper, A  family  retainer  of  the  old  school, 

WHO  WAS  AND  IS  THE  CLOSE  FRIEND  OF  THE  CHIL- 
DREN at  Cadoxton  Lodge. 

Aberdulais^  near  Neath, 

September  \^th,  1917. 

Dear  Sir, — I  am  deeply  touched  with  the  contents 
of  your  very  kind  letter,  and  I  respectfully  beg  to  say 
that  I  feel  extremely  sorry  for  what  has  happened  to 
your  dearly  beloved  son  Christopher,  and  all  who  knew 
him  are  surely  sorry  for  his  untimely  death.  But  I 
don't  think  that  anyone  of  only  casual  acquaintance 
can  feel  the  deep  heartfelt  sorrow  which  those  do  who 
knew  him  as  well  as  I  did.  I  very  well  remember  it 
was  an  anxious  time  at  Cadoxton  Lodge  in  the  early 
part  of  the  day  of  his  birth,  and  after  he  had  safely 
come  into  the  world  I  had  the  great  honour  of  being 
the  first  male  to  see  him  after  Dr.  Lewis  and  his  own 
dear  father. 

By  his  Father  I  mean  your  own  self.  And  after 
the  day  of  his  birth  I  saw  him  many  times  as  a  baby 
in  arms  and  with  his  nurse  in  his  little  carriage.  And 
after  he  grew  older,  so  that  he  could  run  about  and 
play  and  talk  well  by  himself,  I  could  find  that  he 
strictly  followed  the  advice  of  his  parents.  He  was 
fond  of  a  little  playsome  joke,  but  always  very  truth- 
ful, and  I  never  knew  him  to  do  a  thing  that  one  could 
consider  sinful,  or  say  anything  to  do  harm  to  anyone. 
I  was  of  opinion  that  he  was  inspired  with  the  Holy 
Spirit  strongly,  and  he  seemed  to  be  absolutely  fearless. 
And  now  I  am  convinced  that  he  really  was  inspired  by 


292  CHRISTOPHER 

an  Holy  Spirit,  and  the  fact  that  a  merciful  Providence 
had  ordained  for  him  quite  a  painless  death  I  take  as  a 
sure  sign  that  his  body  was  released  from  life  so  that 
his  soul  may  ascend  to  a  happier  place  than  is  to  be 
found  in  this  world.  I  believe  it  is  part  of  our  duty 
to  take  some  consolation  in  the  knowledge  that  the  Al- 
mighty has  a  happier  place  than  can  be  found  in  this 
world  for  the  souls  of  the  departed  who  were  inspired 
by  the  Holy  Spirit. 

But  I  confess  that  1  cannot  help  wishing  that  your 
dear  son,  Master  Christopher,  was  still  alive  in  the  flesh. 

I  hope,  sir,  you  will  keep  well,  also  Mrs.  Tennant, 
and  the  two  dear  children  that  are  left  to  you.  Mrs. 
Meadows  quite  agrees  with  me  in  what  I  have  said 
in  this  letter,  and  she  tells  me  that  she  wishes  to  say 
respectfully  that  she  very  affectionately  wishes  you  all 
well,  as  also  does  yours  very  obediently, 

George  Meadows. 


From  the  Bryncoch  and  Rhyding  Farmers  on 
THE  Tennant  Estate. 

Plough  and  Harrow^  Neath. 

September  2gth^  191 7- 
Dear  Sir, — The  news  of  the  great  cloud  of  sorrow 
which  has  recently  fallen  upon  your  home  has  cast  quite 
a  gloom  over  this  neighbourhood,  where  your  gallant 
son  was  held  in  such  high  respect.  We  are  conscious 
that  mere  human  words  fail  to  effectually  soothe,  as 
they  fail  to  adequately  express,  the  bitterness  which 
must  underlie  a  heavy  trial  such  as  that  through  which 
you  and  your  good  lady  are  now  passing,  but  as  loyal 


LETTERS  FROM  FRIENDS        293 

and  devoted  tenants  upon  your  estate,  we  feel  that 
we  cannot  refrain  from  encroaching  upon  the  sacred 
domain  of  your  silent  grief  and  assure  you  how  deeply 
we  sympathise  with  you  and  your  family  in  this  keen 
bereavement,  and  how  sincerely  we  pray  that  you  may 
receive  all  the  strengthening  influence  of  Divine  Power 
and  be  further  sustained  by  the  comforting  memories 
of  a  young  life  whose  noble  surrender  in  the  bud  of 
promise  (true  to  the  best  traditions  of  honourable  and 
honoured  ancestry)  for  King  and  Country  will  be  re- 
corded in  golden  characters  upon  the  escutcheon  of  a 
God-fearing  loving  people.  It  is  not  how  long  we  live 
but  what  we  put  into  it  that  tells,  for  one  hour  of  glor- 
ious life's  worth  an  age  without  a  name. — Yours  faith- 
fully, 

Daniel  Bowen, 
for  the  Bryncoch  and  Rhyding  farmers. 


The  following  letters  from  two  young  girls  who  were 
his  closest  girl  friends  are  included  as  showing  the 
impression  he  made  upon  those  who  shared  many  of  his 
gayest  play-hours. 

"Of  all  the  casualties  that  I  have  felt,  Christopher's 
death  is  the  hardest  to  believe.  To  me  he  was  always 
so  like  a  child  that  went  through  life  as  through  a 
dream,  so  lovable,  and  creating  an  atmosphere  so  sug- 
gestive of  absolute  still  peace,  that  I  feel  he  can  have 
had  no  part  in  the  chaos  that  ended  his  life,  and  that 
he  has  just  gently  moved  his  still  spirit  elsewhere  to 
continue  that  life  in  his  own  calm  way.    For  him  I  can- 


294  CHRISTOPHER 

not  feel  any  tragedy,  he  seemed  to  be  so  cheerfully 
happy  in  any  place,  yet  having  no  passionate  clinging  to 
this  life.  You  must  have  been  his  greatest  tie,  and 
surely  he,  at  least,  will  not  feel  that  is  broken.  .  .  . 
I  know  that  I  shall  feel  him  more  acutely  here  than  I 
ever  did ;  so  many  things  will  remind  us  of  Christopher 
that  at  times  he  will  seem  with  us,  just  the  same,  with 
a  hand  ready  and  willing  to  help  at  every  turn." 

"I  am  not  going  to  attempt  to  offer  sympathy,  it  does 
not  help;  in  fact  I  always  feel  it  makes  things  harder 
to  bear,  except  from  a  very  few  people. 

I  am  very  miserable,  but  chiefly  for  you;  I  always 
felt  that  dear  Christopher  himself  was  not  quite  of  this 
world. 

The  part  of  him  which  talked,  moved,  and  even 
thought,  was  here;  but  I  felt  that  his  true  self  was  al- 
ways far  away,  in  quite  another  world.  I  never  felt 
that  he  was  in  any  way  made  for  this  existence,  he  was 
so  totally  unlike  anyone  else  I  ever  met. 

I  feel,  therefore,  that  his  real  self  is  still  just  where 
it  always  was,  because  it  never  was  here,  and  that,  on 
account  of  that,  it  is  in  a  way  less  of  a  separation  than 
it  would  be  with  many  boys,  who  have  their  whole 
being  essentially  on  this  earth. 

Another  thing  I  feel  is  that  he  was  a  boy  who  had 
such  a  calm  philosophy  about  life  that  it  must  have 
been  easier  for  him  to  go  than  many  boys.  He  himself, 
I  mean,  would  not  have  dreaded  it,  for  I  feel  he  knew 
it  would  make  so  little  difference,  really. 

I  am  sure  he  is  happy.  It  is  the  first  thing  I  felt 
very  strongly  after  taking  in  what  it  meant.    It  was 


LETTERS  FROM  FRIENDS        295 

such  a  shock  because  it  had  never  occurred  to  me  as 
possible.  I  am  sure  that  the  only  thing  that  would 
make  him  sad  is  your  sorrow. 

I  am  sure  that  the  one  thing  he  would  wish  would 
be  for  you  not  to  be  too  unhappy.  He  was  a  great 
friend,  and  I  too  shall  miss  him  dreadfully." 

"Bydd  myrdd  o  ryfeddodau 

Ar  doriad  boreu  wawr, 
Pan  ddelo  plant  y  tonau 

Yn  iach  o'r  cystudd  mawr; 
on  yn  eu  gynau  gwynion, 

Ac  ar  eu  newydd  wedd, 
Yn  debyg  idd  eu  Harglwydd, 

Yn  d'od  i'r  Ian  o'r  bedd." 

"For  he  who  hath  thus  far  had  intelligence  of  love,  and 
hath  beheld  all  fair  things  in  order  and  aright, — he,  drawing 
near  to  the  end  of  things  lovable,  shall  behold  a  Being  mar- 
vellously fair;  for  whose  sake  in  truth  it  is  that  all  the  pre- 
vious labours  have  been  undergone:  One  who  is  from  ever- 
lasting, and  neither  is  born  nor  perisheth,  nor  can  wax  nor 
wane,  nor  hath  change  or  turning  or  alteration  of  foul  and 
fair;  nor  can  that  beauty  be  imagined  after  the  fashion  of 
face  or  hands  or  bodily  parts  and  members,  nor  in  any  form 
of  speech  or  knowledge,  nor  as  dwelling  in  aught  but  in  itself ; 
neither  in  beast  nor  man,  nor  earth  nor  heaven,  nor  any  other 
creature ;  but  Beauty  only  and  alone,  and  separate  and  eternal, 
which,  albeit  all  other  fair  things  partake  thereof  and  grow 
and  perish,  itself  without  change  or  increase  or  diminution 
endures  for  everlasting.  And  whoso  being  led  on  and  upward 
by  human  loves  begins  to  see  that  Beauty,  he  is  not  far,  I  say, 
from  reaching  the  end  of  all." — Plato,  "Symposium." 


^'jU 


NOTES  ON  A  FEW  QUOTATIONS 
AND  ALLUSIONS 


Most  of  the  sources  of  quotation  are  sufficiently  indicated 
in  the  body  of  the  book;  but,  in  case  it  is  convenient  to  any 
reader,  some  residual  information  is  unobtrusively  collected 
here : — 


PAGE 

14.- 

14.' 
51.' 


'fall  to  rise"        . 

*joy  of  their  Lord" 
"case-hardening"    . 


59.  "Many  are  the  thyrsus- 
bearers,"  etc.: 


60  (and  74).  consummaren- 

iur 
60.  "cloudy  pillar"     . 
72.  "In  no  strange  land"    . 


Browning,  Epilogue  to  Asch 
lando. 

Matt.  XXV.  21. 

A  process  applied  to  iron 
whereby  it  is  superficially 
converted  into  unannealed 
steel,  so  as  to  protect  it 
from  scratching  or  scarring 
even  by  a  file. 

but  the  really  inspired  teach- 
ers or  true  philosophers  are 
few.  The  saying  is  quoted 
by  Plato  in  Phaedo  69, 
probably  from  an  Orphic 
source.  It  is  employed  in 
the  text  to  signify  that 
while  many  derive  comfort 
from  the  offices  of  religion, 
and  from  the  testimony  and 
experience  of  others,  few 
desire  to  penetrate  the  veil 
for  themselves. 

Hebrews  xi.  40. 

Exodus  xiii.  22. 
A  poem  by  Francb  Thomp- 
son. 


297 


298    QUOTATIONS  AND  ALLUSIONS 


PAGE 

72.  "added  unto" 
74.  "gain  of  loss" 

74.  "cloud  of  witnesses"     . 
76.  acana  irvevfiaTCKdv    . 

79.  "hours  of  gloom:  hours 

of  insight" 
80  (and  255.)  "haven  where 
they  would  be." 

80.  "God  created  man" 

90.  "Something     far     more 

deeply  interfused" 

91.  "Fifth  Symphony" 

93.  "moving  about"     . 

94.  "welcome  each  rebuff" 
108.  "desolate   sweetness" 

108.  "Ode  to  the  Setting  Sun' 
132.  "The  world  is  too  much 

with  us." 
138.  "Green  Sussex"     •        • 

152.  "To  strive,"  etc.   . 

159.  "If  they  appear"  . 

160.  "Lay  thy  uphill  shoul- 

der" 
204.  Dante  passages 
218.  "Hen  Wlad  fy  Nhadau" 


Matt.  vi.  33. 

Tennyson,    "In    Memoriam," 

I. 
Hebrews  xii.  1. 
1  Cor.  XV.  44. 
Matt.  Arnold,  "Morality." 

Psalm  cvii.  30. 

"Wisdom"  ii.  23. 

Wordsworth,  "Tintern  Ab- 
bey." 

Lodge,  in  an  Address. 

Wordsworth,   "Immortality." 

Browning,  "Rabbi  Ben  Ezra." 

Tennyson,  "The  Ancient 
Sage." 

See  p.  263. 

Wordsworth,  Sonnet  xxxiii. 

Tennyson,  "Prologue  to  Gen- 
eral Hamley." 
Tennyson,  "Ulysses." 
cf.  Wordsworth,  Sonnet  xxx. 
Tennyson,  "Ancient  Sage." 

(See  translation  on  p.  299.) 
"Dear  Land  of  my  Fathers." 


Dear  Land  of  my  Fathers,  whose  glories  were  told 
By  bard  and  by  minstrel  who  loved  thee  of  old. 
Dear  country  whose  sires,  that  their  sons  might  be  free, 
Have  suffered  and  perished  for  thee! 

Wales!  Wales!  Land  of  the  mist  and  the  wild. 
Wherever  I  roam,  though  far  from  my  home, 
The  Mother  is  calling  her  child. 


219.  "Cymru  am  byth!" 


'Wales  for  ever!"  (Regi- 
mental Motto  of  Welsh 
Guards.) 


QUOTATIONS  AND  ALLUSIONS    299 

PAGE 

225.  "Since  in  that  hour"     .     F.  W.  H.  Myers,  "Fragments 

of  Prose  and  Poetry,"  p. 
148. 

254.  "Heaven  overarches"     .     Christina    Rossetti     (sec     p. 

252). 

262.  "Neither  death  nor  life"      Romans  viii.  38. 

295.  Welsh  poem 

There  will  be  myriad  wonders 

At  break  of  morning  dawn, 
When  the  children  of  the  tempest  come 

Freed  from  their  great  tribulation; 
All  in  their  robes  resplendent 

And  with  countenance  transfigured 
Resembling  their  Lord 
Rising  from  the  tomb. 

Of  the  Dante  passages,  on  page  204,  the  translation  in  The 
Temple  Classics  will  serve: — 

"This  mountain  is  such,  that  ever  at  the  beginning 
below  'tis  toilsome,  and  the  more  a  man  ascends  the 
less  it  wearies. 

"Therefore  when  it  shall  seem  to  thee  so  pleasant 
that  the  ascending  becomes  to  thee  easy,  even  as  in  a 
boat  to  descend  with  the  stream, 

"Then  shalt  thou  be  at  the  end  of  this  path:  there 
hope  to  rest  thy  weariness." 

"Thou  art  so  nigh  to  the  supreme  weal  that  thou 
shouldst  have  thine  eyes  clear  and  keen." 


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